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QABORIAU'S  SENSATIONAL  NOVELS. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 

ISO 


EMILE  GABORIAU, 

AUTHOR  OF 

"  The  Lerougb  Case,"  In  Peril  of  His  Life/    Monsieur  Lj:toc^,  '  uric; 


CHICAGO  AND  NEW  YORK: 
BELFORD,  CLARKE  &  COMPANY, 
Publishers. 


TROWS 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY, 
NEW  YORK. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


PART  I. 

MEN  OF  STRAW. 
I. 

There  is  not,  perhaps,  in  all  Paris,  a  quieter  street  than 
the  Rue  St.  Gilles  in  the  Marais,  within  a  few  steps  of  the 
Place  Royale.      No    carriages    there ;   never  a  crowd. 
.Hardly  is  the  silence  broken  by  the  regulation  trumpet 
calls  of  the  Caserne  des  Minimes,  by  the  chimes  of  the 
^church  of  St.  Louis,  or  by  the  joyous  clamours  of  the  pu- 
'  pils  of  M.  Massin's  Academy  during  their  play  hours.  At 
night,  long  before  ten  o'clock,  and  when  the  Boulevard 
^'Beaumarchais  is  still  full  of  life,  activity,  and  noise,  every- 
"".thing  is  closed.     One  by  one  the  lights  go  out,  and  the 
^ great   windows   with   diminutive    panes  become  dark. 
j^And  if,  after  midnight,  some  belated  citizen  passes  on  his 
way  home,  he  quickens  his  step,  feeling  lonely  and  uneasy, 
and  apprehensive  of  the  reproaches  of  his  concierge,  who 
may  ask  him  whence  he  comes  at  so  late  an  hour.  In 
' 'such  a  street,  every  one  knows  every  one,  the  houses  have 
:  '"'no  mystery,  the  families  no  secrets,  it  is  like  a  small  town, 
where  idle  curiosity  has  always  a  corner  of  its  veil  slyly 
Raised,  where  gossip  flourishes  as  rankly  as  the  grass  be- 
y^tween  the  paving-stones. 

Thus  on  the  afternoon  of  Saturday  the  27th  of  April, 
\1872,  a  fact  which  anywhere  else  might  have  passed  un' 


943459 


2 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


noticed,  was  attracting  particular  attention.  A  man  some 
thirty  years  of  age,  wearing  the  working  Uvery  of  servants 
of  the  upper  classes, — the  long  striped  waistcoat  with 
sleeves,  and  the  white  linen  apron, — was  going  from  door 
to  door.  "  Who  can  the  man  be  looking  for  1 wondered 
the  idle  neighbours,  closely  watching  his  evolutions.  He 
was  not  looking  for  any  one.  To  the  persons  he  spoke  to, 
he  stated  that  he  had  been  sent  by  a  cousin  of  his,  an  ex- 
cellent cook,  who,  before  taking  a  place  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, was  anxious  to  have  all  ^possible  information  re- 
specting her  prospective  masters.  And  then,  Do  you 
know  M.  Vincent  Favoral  ?  he  would  ask.  Concierges 
and  shop-keepers  knew  no  one  better ;  for  it  was  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century  before,  that  M.  Vincent  Fa- 
voral, the  day  after  his  wedding,  had  come  to  settle  in  the 
Rue  St.  Gilles ;  and  there  his  two  children  were  born, — 
his  son  M.  Maxence,  his  daughter  Mademoiselle  Gilberte. 
He  occupied  the  second  story  of  the  house  No.  38, — one 
of  those  old-fashioned  dwellings,  such  as  they  no  longer 
build,  now  that  ground  is  worth  twelve  hundred  francs 
the  metre,  in  which  there  is  no  stinting  of  space,  in  which 
the  stairs,  with  their  wrought-iron  balusters,  are  wide  and 
easy,  the  rooms  large,  and  the  ceilings  twelve  feet  from 
the  floor. 

"  Of  course,  we  know  M.  Favoral,"  answered  every  one 
to  the  servant's  questions  ;  and,  if  there  ever  was  an 
honest  man,  why,  he  is  certainly  the  one.  There  is  a  man 
whom  you  could  trust  with  your  savings,  if  you  had  any, 
without  fear  of  his  ever  running  off  to  Belgium  with  them." 
And  it  was  further  explained,  that  M.  Favoral  was  chief 
cashier,  and  probably,  also,  one  of  the  principal  sharehold- 
ers of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank,  one  of  those  admirable 
financial  institutions  which  sprung  up  with  the  second  em- 
pire, and  which  first  won  heavily  on  the  Bourse,  the  very 
day  that  the  game  of  the  "  Coup  d'Etat"  was  being  played 
in  the  streets. 

"  I  know  well  enough  the  gentleman's  business,"  re- 
marked the  servant;  "but  what  sort  of  a  man  is  he? 
That's  what  my  cousin  would  like  to  know." 

The  wine  merchant  at  No.  43,  the  senior  shop-keeper  in 
the  street,  could  best  answer  that  question.  A  couple  of 
glasses  of  cognac  politely  offered  soon  set  his  tongue 
going ;   and,   after  clinking  glasses,  he  said,     M.  Vin 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


3 


cent  Favoral  is  a  man  some  fifty-two  or  three  years  old, 
but  who  looks  much  younger,  not  having  yet  a  single  gray 
hair.  He  is  tall  and  thin,  with  neatly-trimmed  whiskers, 
thin  lips,  and  small  yellow  eyes.  He  is  not  at  all  talkative. 
It  takes  more  trouble  to  get  a  word  from  his  mouth  than  a 
franc  from  his  pocket.  '  Yes,'  '  no,'  '  good-morning,' '  good- 
evening  ;  '  that's  about  the  extent  of  his  conversation. 
Summer  and  winter,  he  wears  gray  trousers,  a  long  frock- 
coat,  laced  up  shoes,  and  lisle-thread  gloves.  '  Pon  my 
word,  I  should  say  that  he  is  still  wearing  the  very  same 
clothes  I  saw  upon  his  back  for  the  first  timiC  in  1845, 
I  not  know  that  he  has  two  new  suits  made  every  year  by 
the  concierge  at  No.  29,  who  is  also  a  tailor." 

<<Why,  he  must  be  an  old  miser,"  muttered  the  ser- 
vant. 

"  He  is  above  all  peculiar,"  continued  the  shop-keeper, 
"  like  most  men  of  figures,  it  seems.  His  own  life  is  ruled 
and  regulated  like  the  pages  of  his  ledger.  In  the  neigh- 
bourhood he  is  called  Old  Punctuality  ;  and,  w^hen  he 
passes  through  the  Rue  St.  Louis,  which  is  now  called  the 
Rue  Turenne,  the  merchants  set  their  watches  by  him. 
Rain  or  shine,  every  morning  of  the  year,  on  the  stroke  of 
nine,  he  appears  at  the  door  on  the  way  to  his  office. 
When  he  returns,  you  may  be  sure  it  is  between  twenty  and 
twenty-five  minutes  past  five.  At  six  he  dines  ;  at  seven 
he  goes  to  meet  his  friends  at  the  CafQ  Turc  ;  at  ten  he 
returns  home  and  goes  to  bed  ;  and,  at  the  first  stroke  of 
eleven  at  the  church  of  St.  Louis,  out  goes  his  candle." 

"  Hem  !  "  grumbled  the  servant  with  a  look  of  contempt, 
"  the  question  is.  Will  my  cousin  be  willing  to  live  with  a 
man  who  is  a  sort  of  walking  clock  ? " 

"  It  isn't  always  pleasant,"  remarked  the  wine-merchant ; 
"  and  the  best  proof  is,  that  the  son,  M.  Maxence,  got  tired 
of  it." 

"  He  no  longer  lives  with  his  parents  then  ?  " 

"  He  dines  with  them  ;  but  he  lives  by  himself  in  the 
Boulevard  du  Temple.  The  row  caused  a  good  deal  or 
talk  at  the  time  ;  and  some  people  pretend  that  M.  Max- 
ence is  a  young  scamp,  who  leads  a  very  dissipated  life  ; 
but  I  consider  that  his  father  kept  him  too  close.  The  boy 
is  twenty-five,  pretty  good  looking,  and  has  a  very  stylish 
mistress  :  I  have  seen  her.  I  should  have  done  just  as 
he  did." 


4 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  And  the  daughter,  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  ? " 

"  She  does  not  seem  to  get  married,  although  she  is  past 
twenty,  and  pretty  as  a  rosebud.  After  the  war,  her  father 
wanted  her  to  marry  a  stock-broker,  so  they  say,  a  very 
stylish  man  who  always  came  in  a  carriage  and  pair  ;  but 
she  refused  him  outright.  I  should  not  be  a  bit  surprised 
to  hear  that  she  has  some  love-affair  of  her  own.  I  have 
lately  noticed  about  here  a  young  gentleman  who  looks  up 
very  much  whenever  he  passes  No.  38.''  The  servant  did 
not  seem  to  find  these  particulars  very  interesting. 

"  It's  the  lady,"  he  said,  "that  my  cousin  would  like  to 
know  most  about." 

"  Naturally.  Well,  you  can  safely  tell  her  that  she  never 
will  have  had  a  better  mistress.  Poor  Madame  Favoral ! 
She  must  have  had  a  sweet  time  of  it  with  her  maniac  of  a 
husband  1  But  she  is  no  longer  young ;  and  people  get  ac- 
customed to  everything,  you  know.  When  the  weather  is 
fine,  I  see  her  pass  with  Mademoiselle  Gilberte.  They 
walk  round  the  Place  Royale.  That's  about  their  only- 
amusement." 

"  The  devil !  "  said  the  servant,  with  a  sneer.  "  IE  the 
master  doesn't  treat  them  to  any  others,  he  won't  ruin  him- 
self ! " 

"  He  does  not  pay  for  any  others,"  continued  the  shop- 
keeper. "  That  is,  excuse  me,  every  Saturday,  for  many 
years,  M.  and  Madame  Favoral  receive  a  few  of  their 
friends  :  M.  and  Madame  Desclavettes,  who  use  to  deal 
in  bronzes,  in  the  Rue  Turenne  ;  M.  Chapelain,  the  retired 
lawyer  in  the  Rue  St.  Antoine,  whose  daughter  is  Mademoi- 
selle Gilberte's  particular  friend ;  M.  Desormeaux,  who  is 
one  of  the  heads  of  department  in  the  Ministry  of  Justice  ; 
and  three  or  four  others  besides  ;  and  as  this  just  happens 
to  be  a  Saturday " —  But  here  he  stopped  short,  and 
pointing  towards  the  street, — "  Quick,"  said  he  "  look  ! 
Speaking  of  the — you  know —  It  is  twenty  minutes  past 
five,  there  is  M.  Favoral  coming  home." 

It  was,  in  fact,  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank, 
looking  very  much  indeed  as  the  shop-keeper  had  depicted 
him.  Walking  with  his  head  down,  he  seemed  to  be  seek- 
ing about  the  pavement  for  the  very  spot  upon  which  he 
had  set  his  foot  in  the  morning,  that  he  might  set  it  there 
again  in  the  evening.  With  the  same  methodical  step,  he 
reached  his  house,  walked  up  the  two  flights  of  stairs,  and, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


5 


taking  out  his  pass-key,  opened  the  door  of  his  apartment. 
The  dwelling  was  in  keeping  with  the  man ;  and  every- 
thing, from  the  very  ante-room,  betrayed  his  peculiarities. 
There  evidently,  every  piece  of  furniture  must  have  its  in- 
variable place,  every  object  its  irrevocable  shelf  or  hook. 
All  around  were  evidences,  if  not  exactly  of  poverty,  at 
least  of  small  means,  and  of  the  artifices  of  a  respectable 
economy.  Cleanliness  was  carried  to  its  utmost  limits, 
everything  shone,  but  there  was  not  a  detail  but  betrayed 
the  industrious  hand  of  the  housekeeper,  struggling  to 
defend  her  furniture  against  the  ravages  of  time.  The 
velvet  on  the  chairs  was  darned  at  the  angles  as  with  the 
needle  of  a  fairy.  Stitches  of  new  worsted  showed  on 
the  faded  designs  of  the  hearth-rugs.  The  curtains  had 
been  turned  so  as  to  display  the  side  the  least  faded. 

All  the  guests  enumerated  by  the  shop-keeper,  and  a  few 
others  besides,  were  in  the  drawing-room  when  M.  Favoral 
entered.  But,  instead  of  returning  their  greeting,  he 
asked  :  "  Where  is  Maxence  ?  " 

"  I  am  expecting  him,  my  dear,"  replied  Madame  Favo- 
ral gently. 

The  cashier  frowned.  "Always  behind  time,''  he 
scolded.    "  It  is  too  much." 

His  daughter,  Mademoiselle  Gilberte,  interrupted  him, 
saying,  "  Where  is  my  bouquet,  father  ? " 

M.  Favoral  stopped  short,  struck  his  forehead,  and  with 
the  accent  of  a  man  who  reveals  something  incredible, 
prodigious,  unheard  of,  "  Forgotten,"  he  exclaimed,  scan- 
ning the  syllables  :  "  I  have  for-got-ten  it  !  " 

It  was  a  fact.  Every  Saturday,  on  his  way  home,  he 
was  in  the  habit  of  stopping  at  an  old  woman's  shop  in 
front  of  the  Church  of  St.  Louis,  and  buying  a  bouquet  for 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte.  "  Ah !  I  have  caught  you  this 
time,  father  !  "  cried  the  young  girl. 

Meantime  Madame  Favoral,  leaning  towards  Madame 
Desclavettes,  whispered  in  a  troubled  voice :  "  Really 
something  serious  must  have  happened  to  my  husband. 
He  to  forget !  he  to  fail  in  one  of  his  habits  1  It  is  the 
first  in  twenty-six  years." 

The  appearance  of  Maxence  at  this  moment  prevented 
her  from  continuing.  M.  Favoral  was  about  to  administer 
a  sound  reprimand  to  his  son,  when  dinner  was  announced 

"  Come,"  exclaimed  M.  Chapelain,  the  ex-lawyer,  a  pre 


6 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEV. 


eminently  conciliating  man, — "  Come,  let  us  adjourn  to 
the  dining-room." 

They  sat  down  to  table  ;  but  Madame  Favoral  had 
scarcely  helped  the  soup,  when  the  door-beil  rang  violently. 
Directly  after  the  servant  appeared,  and  announced  "  The 
Baron  de  Thaller  ! 

More  pale  than  his  napkin,  the  cashier  stood  up.  "  M}) 
chief,"  he  stammered,  the  manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit 
Bank." 

Close  upon  the  heels  of  the  servant  came  M.  de  Thaller. 
Tall,  thin,  and  stiff,  he  had  a  very  small  head,  a  flat  face, 
pointed  nose,  and  long  reddish  whiskers,  slightly  lightened 
with  silvery  threads,  falling  half-way  down  his  chest.  More 
careful  of  his  person  than  a  girl,  he  exhaled  all  sorts  of 
perfumes.  Dressed  in  the  latest  style  he  wore  a  loose 
overcoat  of  rough  material,  trousers  that  spread  nearly  to 
the  tips  of  his  boots,  a  large  turn-down  collar,  with  a  light 
cravat  which  displayed  an  elegant  diamond  pin,  and  on  his 
head  a  tall  hat  with  fashionably  turned  brims.  Heblinking- 
ly  made  a  rapid  estimate  of  the  dining-room,  of  the  shabby 
furniture,  and  of  the  guests  seated  around  the  table.  Then, 
without  even  condescending  to  touch  his  hat,  with  his 
large  hand  tightly  fitted  into  a  lavender  kid  glove,  in  a 
brief  and  imperious  tone,  and  with  a  slight  Alsatian  accent, 
he  said  to  his  cashier :  "  I  must  speak  with  you,  Vincent, 
alone  and  at  once." 

M.  Favoral  made  visible  efforts  to  conceal  his  anxiety. 
"  You  see,"  he  commenced,  we  are  dining  with  a  few 
friends,  and, — " 

Do  you  wish  me  to  speak  before  them  all  ?  "  harshly 
interrupted  the  manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank. 

The  cashier  hesitated  no  longer.  Taking  up  a  candle 
from  the  table,  he  opened  the  door  leading  to  the  drawing- 
room,  and,  standing  respectfully  on  one  side  :  Be  kind 
enough  to  enter,  sir,"  he  said  :  "  I  follow  you."  And,  at 
the  moment  of  disappearing  himself,  remarked  to  his 
guests  with  a  last  effort  at  self-control :  Continue  to  dine 
without  me,  I  shall  soon  catch  up  'with  you.  I  shall  be 
occupied  but  a  moment.    Do  not  be  uneasy,  in  the  least." 

They  were  not  uneasy,  but  surprised,  and,  above  all, 
shocked  at  the  manners  of  M.  de  Thaller.  What  a 
brute  !  "  muttered  Madame  Desclavettes.  M.  Desormeaux, 
the  head  of  department  at  the  Ministry  of  Justice  sneered, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


7 


He  was  an  old  legitimist,  much  imbued  with  reactionary 
ideas.  Such  are  our  masters,"  said  he,  "  the  high  barons 
of  financial  feudality.  Ah  !  you  were  indignant  at  the  ar- 
rogance of  the  old  aristocracy  ;  well,  on  your  knees  then, 
on  your  bellies  rather,  before  the  golden  crown  on  a  gules^ 
field."  No  one  rejoined  :  every  one  was  trying  his  best  to 
hear  what  was  said  in  the  next  room. 

A  discussion  of  the  utmost  violence  was  evidently  going 
on  between  M.  de  Thaller  and  M.  Favoral.  To  seize  the 
meaning  of  it  was  impossible ;  yet  the  upper  panels  of  the 
door  being  of  glass,  fragments  could  be  heard  occasionally ; 
and  from  time  to  time  such  words  as  dividends  and  share- 
holders,  deficit,  and  millions,  distinctly  reached  the  ear. 

"  What  can  it  all  mean  ?  great  heaven  !  "  moaned  Mad- 
ame Favoral. 

Doubtless  the  two  interlocutors,  the  manager  and  the 
cashier,  had  drawn  nearer  to  the  door  of  communication ; 
for  their  voices,  which  rose  more  and  more,  had  now  be- 
come very  clear.  It  is  an  infamous  trap  !  "  M.  Favoral 
was  saying.    "  I  should  have  been  notified — " 

"  Come,  come,"  interrupted  the  other.  "  Were  you  not 
fully  warned  ?    You  know  you  were." 

Fear,  a  fear  vague^  still,  and  inexplicable,  was  slowly  tak- 
ing possession  of  the  guests  ;  and  they  remained  motion- 
less, their  forks  in  suspense,  holding  their  breath. 

"  Never,"  M.  Favoral  v/as  repeating,  stamping  his  foot 
so  violently  that  the  partition  shook — "  never,  never  !  " 

"  And  yet  it  will  be  so,"  declared  M.  de  Thaller.  "  It  is 
the  only  resource — " 

And  suppose  I  will  not ! " 

"  What  has  your  will  to  do  with  it  ?  You  should  have 
thought  of  that  tw^enty  years  ago.  But  listen  to  me,  let 
us  reason  a  little."  Here  M.  de  Thaller  lowered  his  voice ; 
and  for  some  minutes  nothing  was  heard  in  the  dining- 
room  except  confused  words,  and  incomprehensible  exclam- 
ations, until  suddenly  he  resumed  in  a  furious  tone  :  "It 
is  ruin,  it  is  bankruptcy  at  the  end  of  the  month." 
Sir,"  the  cashier  was  replying,  "  sir — " 

"You  are  a  forger,  M.  Vincent  Favoral;  you  are  a 
thief !  " 

Maxence  bounded  from  his  seat.   "  I  shall  not  permit  my 
father  to  be  thus  insulted  in  his  own  house,"   he  ex* 
claimed. 


8 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  Maxence,"  begged  Madame  Favoral ;  "  my  son ! 

The  ex-lawyer,  M.  Chapelain,  held  him  back  by  the  arm; 
but  he  struggled  hard,  and  was  about  to  burst  into  the 
drawing-room,  when  the  door  opened,  and  the  manager  of 
the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  stepped  out.  With  a  coolness 
quite  remarkable  after  such  a  scene,  he  advanced  towards 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte,  and  in  a  tone  of  offensive  protec- 
tion, said  :  "  Your  father  is  a  wretch,  mademoiselle,  and 
my  duty  would  be  to  deliver  him  at  once  into  the  hands  of 
justice.  On  account  of  your  worthy  mother,  however,  of 
your  brother,  above  all  on  your  own  account,  mademoiselle, 
I  shall  forbear  doing  so.  But  let  him  fly,  let  him  disappear, 
and  never  more  be  heard  of." 

He  drew  from  his  pocket  a  roll  of  bank-notes,  and,  throw- 
ing them  on  the  table,  added  :  "  Hand  him  this.  Let  him 
leave  this  very  night.  The  police  may  have  been  informed. 
A  train  leaves  for  Brussels  at  five  minutes  past  eleven." 
And,  having  bowed,  he  withdrew,  no  one  addressing  a  single 
word  to  him,  so  great  was  the  astonishment  of  all  the  guests 
of  that  house  until  then  so  peaceful. 

Overcome  with  stupor,  Maxence  had  dropped  upon  his 
chair.  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  alone  retained  some  pres- 
ence of  mind.  "  It  is  a  shame,"  she  exclaimed,  "  for  us 
to  give  up  thus  !  That  man  is  an  impostor,  a  villain  ;  he 
lies  !    Father,  father  !  " 

M.  Favoral  had  not  waited  to  be  called,  and  was  stand- 
ing up  against  the  drawing-room  door,  pale  as  death,  and 
yet  calm.  "  Why  attempt  any  explanations  ?  "  he  said. 
"  My  safe  is  empty ;  and  appearances  are  against  me." 

His  wdfe  had  drawn  near  to  him,  and  taken  his  hand. 
"The  misfortune  is  immense,"  she  murmured,  "but  not 
irreparable.    We  will  sell  everything  we  have." 

"  Have  you  not  friends  ?  Are  we  not  here,"  insisted 
the  others, — M.  Desclavettes,  M.  Desormeaux,  and  M, 
Chapelain. 

Gently  he  pushed  his  wif  aside,  and  coldly  said  :  "  All 
we  possessed  would  be  as  a  grain  of  sand  in  an*  ocean. 
But  we  have  no  longer  anything :  w^e  are  all  ruined." 

"  Ruined  !  "  exclaimed  M.  Desormeaux,.  "  ruined  !  And 
where  are  the  forty-five  thousand  francs  I  placed  in  youi 
charge  ? " 

He  made  no  reply. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


9 


"  And  our  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  francs  ?  groaned 
M.  and  Madame  Desclavettes. 

"  And  my  sixty  thousand  francs  ?  "  shouted  M.  Chape- 
lain,  with  a  blasphemous  oath. 

The  cashier  shrugged  his  shoulders.    "  Lost,"  he  said, 
"  irrevocably  lost !  " 

Then  their  rage  exceeded  all  bounds.  Then  they  forgot 
that  this  unfortunate  man  had  been  their  friend  for  twenty 
years,  that  they  were  his  guests ;  and  they  commenced 
heaping  upon  him  threats  and  insults  without  name.  He 
did  not  even  deign  to  defend  himself.  *^Go  on,"  he  mut- 
tered, "  go  on.  When  a  poor  dog,  carried  away  by  the 
current,  is  drowning,  men  of  heart  cast  stones  at  him  from 
the  bank.    Go  on  !  " 

"  You  should  have  told  us  that  you  speculated,"  screamed 
M.  Desclavettes. 

On  hearing  these  words,  he  drew  himself  up,  with  a  ges- 
ture so  terrible  that  the  others  stepped  back  frightened. 
"  What,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  crushing  irony,  "  is  it  this 
evening  only  that  you  discover  that  I  speculated  ?  Kind 
friends !  Where,  then,  and  in  whose  pockets,  did  you  sup- 
pose I  was  getting  the  enormous  interest  I  have  been  pay- 
ing you  for  years  ?  Where  have  you  ever  seen  honest 
money,  the  money  of  labour,  yield  twelve  or  fourteen  per 
cent  ?  The  money  that  yields  that  is  the  money  of  the 
gaming  table,  the  money  of  the  Bourse.  Why  did  you 
bring  me  your  funds  ?  Because  you  were  fully  satisfied  that 
I  knew  how  to  handle  the  cards.  Ah  ?  If  I  was  to  tell  you 
that  I  had  doubled  your  capital,  you  would  not  ask  me 
how  I  did  it,  nor  whether  I  had  stlfcked  the  cards.  You 
would  virtuously  pocket  the  money.  But  I  have  lost,  there-  * 
fore  I  must  be  a  thief.  Well,  so  be  it :  but,  then,  you  are  all 
my  accomplices.  It  is  the  avidity  of  the  dupes  which  in- 
duces the  trickery  of  the  sharpers." 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  a  servant  coming  in.  "  Sir," 
she  exclaimed  excitedly,  "  Oh  sir !  the  courtyard  is  full  of 
police-agents.  They  are  speaking  to  the  concierge.  They 
will  be  coming  up  stairs.    I  hear  them  !  " 


10 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


11. 

According  to  the  time  and  place  where  they  are  utteredj 
there  are  words  which  acquire  a  terrible  significance.  In 
this  disordered  room,  in  the  midst  of  these  excited  people, 
that  one  word,  "  police,"  sounded  like  a  thunderclap.  "  Do 
not  open,"  Maxence  cried  to  the  servant;  'Mo  not  open, 
whether  they  ring  or  knock.   Let  them  burst  the  door  first." 

The  very  excess  of  her  fright  restored  to  Madame  Fa» 
voral  a  portion  of  her  energy.  Throwing  herself  before  her 
husband  as  if  to  protect  him,  as  if  to  defend  him,  she  ex- 
claimed :  "  They  are  coming  to  arrest  you,  Vincent. 
They  are  coming  ;  do  you  not  hear  them  ?  " 

He  remained  motionless,  his  feet,  so  to  say,  riveted  to  the 
floor.  "  It  was  bound  to  be,"  he  said.  And  with  the  accent 
of  the  wretch  who  sees  all  hope  crushed,  who  gives  up  the 
struggle,  and  submits,  he  said,  Be  it  so ;  let  them  arrest 
me,  and  let  all  be  over  for  good.  I  have  had  enough  anx- 
iety like  that ;  I  have  tried  too  many  impossible  alternatives. 
I  am  tired  of  constantly  feigning,  deceiving,  and  lying. 
Let  them  arrest  me  !  Any  misfortune  will  be  smaller  in  re- 
ality than  the  horrors  of  uncertainty.  I  have  nothing  more 
to  fear  now.  For  the  first  time  in  many  years  I  shall  sleep 
to-night."  He  did  not  notice  the  terrified  looks  of  his  guests. 

You  think  I  am  a  thief,"  he  added;  "well,  be  satisfied, 
justice  shall  be  done  !  " 

But  he  attributed  to  them  sentiments  which  were  no 
longer  theirs.  They  had  forgotten  their  frightful  outburst 
of  anger,  and  their  bitter  resentment  for  their  lost  money  ! 
The  imminence  of  the  peril  awoke  suddenly  within  them  the 
memories  of  the  past,  and  that  strong  affection  which  comes 
from  long  habit,  and  a  constant  exchange  of  services  ren- 
dered. Whatever  M.  Favoral  might  have  done,  they  only 
saw  in  him  now  the  friend,  the  host  whose  bread  they  had 
broken  together  more  than  a  hundred  times,  the  man  whose 
probity,  up  to  this  fatal  night,  had  remained  far  above  sus- 
picion. Pale,  excited,  they  crowded  round  him.  **Have 
you  lost  your  mind  ?  "  cried  M.  Desormeaux.  "  Are  you 
going  to  wait  to  be  arrested,  thrown  into  prison,  dragged 
into  a  criminal  court  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head,  and  in  a  tone  of  idiotic  obstinacy, 
repeated  :      Have  I  not  told  you  that  everything  is  against 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


II 


me  ?  Let  them  come ;  let  them  do  what  they  please  with 
me/' 

"And  your  wife,  unhappy  man,"  insisted  M.  Chapelain, 
the  ex-lawyer,    and  your  children  !  " 

"  Will  they  be  any  the  less  dishonoured  if  I  am  con- 
demned by  default  ? " 

Wild  with  grief,  Madame  Favorai  was  wringing  her  hands. 
"  Vincent,"  she  murmured,  "  in  heaven's  name  spare  us  the 
harrowing  agony  of  knov/ing  you  to  be  in  prison." 

Obstinately  he  remained  silent.  His  daughter,  Made- 
moiselle Gilberte,  dropped  upon  her  knees  before  him,  her 
hands  clasped  together.  "  I  beseech  you,  father,"  she 
begged. 

He  shuddered  all  over.  An  unspeakable  expression  of 
suffering  and  anguish  contracted  his  features ;  and,  speaking 
in  a  scarcely  intelligible  voice,  he  stammered :  "  Ah  !  you 
are  cruelly  protracting  my  agony.  What  do  you  ask  of 
me  ?  " 

"You  must  fly,"  declared  M.  Desclavettes. 

"  Which  way  t  How  ?  Do  you  imagine  that  every  pre- 
caution has  not  been  taken,  that  every  issue  is  not  closely 
watched  ?  ' 

Maxence  interrupted  him  with  a  gesture,  and  said  :  "  The 
windows  in  my  sister's  room,  father,  open  on  to  the  court- 
yard of  the  adjoining  house." 

"  Yes  ;  but  we  are  on  the  second  floor." 

"  No  matter  !  I  have  a  way."  And,  turning  towards  his 
sister,  the  young  man  added,  "  Come,  Gilberte,  give  me  a 
hght,  and  let  me  have  some  sheets." 

They  hurried  out.  Madame  Favorai  felt  a  gleam  of  hope. 
"  We  are  saved  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Saved  ! "  repeated  the  cashier  mechanically. 

"  Yes  ;  for  I  guess  Maxence's  idea.  But  we  must  have  an 
understanding.    Where  will  you  take  refuge  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  tell  ?  " 

"  There  is  a  train  at  five  minutes  past  eleven,"  remarked 
M.  Desormeaux.    "  Don't  let  us  forget  that." 

"But  money  will  be  required  to  leave  by  that  train,'* 
interrupted  M.  Chapelain.  "  Fortunately,  I  have  some." 
And,  forgetting  his  hundred  and  sixty  thousand  francs  lost, 
he  took  out  his  pocket-book.  Madame  Favorai  stopped 
him.  "  We  have  more  than  we  need,"  said  she.  She  took 
from  the  table,  and  held  out  to  her  husband,  the  roll  oi 


12 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


bank-notes  which  the  director  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank 
had  thrown  there  before  going. 

He  refused  them  with  a  gesture  of  rage.  "  Rather  starve 
to  death  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  'Tis  he,  His  that  wretch — " 
But  he  interrupted  himself,  and  said  more  gently :  "  Hide 
those  notes,  and  let  Maxence  take  them  back  to  M.  de  Thal- 
ler to-morrow.'' 

The  bell  rang  violently.  "  The  police  !  "  moaned  Mad- 
ame Desclavettes,  who  seemed  on  the  point  of  fainting 
away. 

"  I  will  go  and  negotiate,"  said  M.  Desormeaux.  "  Fly, 
Vincent,  do  not  lose  a  minute."  And  he  ran  to  the  door  of 
the  apartments,  whilst  Madame  Favoral  hurried  her  hus- 
band towards  Mademoiselle  Gilberte's  room. 

Rapidly  and  stoutly  Maxence  had  fastened  four  sheets 
together  by  the  ends,  which  gave  a  more  than  sufficient 
length.    Then,  he  opened  the  window,  and  carefully  ex- 
amined the  courtyard  of  the  adjoining  house.    "  No  one, 
said  he  :  "  everybody  is  at  dinner.    We  shall  succeed.  " 

M.  Favoral  tottered  like  a  drunken  man.  A  terrible 
emotion  convulsed  his  features.  Casting  a  long  look  upon 
his  wife  and  children  :  "  O  Lord  !  "  he  murmured,  "  what 
will  become  of  them  ? " 

"  Fear  nothing,  father,"  uttered  Maxence.  "  I  am  here. 
Neither  my  mother  nor  my  sister  will  want  for  anything.  " 

My  son  !  "  resumed  the  cashier,  "  my  children !  "  Then, 
wdth  a  choking  voice,  he  added :  "  I  am  worthy  neither  of 
your  love  nor  of  your  devotion,  wretch  that  I  am  !  I  have 
made  you  lead  a  miserable  existence,  spend  a  joyless  youth. 
I  forced  upon  you  all  the  wretchedness  of  poverty  ;  whilst 
I — And  now  I  leave  you  nothing  but  ruin  and  a  dishonoured 
name." 

"Make  haste,  father,"  interrupted  Mademoiselle  Gil- 
berte.  It  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  make  up  his  mind. 
"  It  is  horrible  to  abandon  you  thus,"  he  continued, 
"  What  a  parting  !  Ah  !  death  would  indeed  be  far  prefera- 
ble. What  will  you  think  of  me  ?  I  am  very  guilty,  cep 
tainly,  but  not  as  you  think.  I  have  been  deceived,  and  I 
must  suffer  for  all.  If  at  least  you  knew  the  truth !  But 
will  you  ever  know  it  ?  We  will  never  see  each  other 
again  1 " 

Desperately  his  wife  clung  to  him  ;  "  Do  not  speak  thus," 
she  said.    ^'Wherever  you  may  find  an  asylum,  I  will  join 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


you.  Death  alone  should  separate  us.  What  do  I  care 
what  you  may  have  done,  or  what  the  world  will  say  ?  I 
am  your  wife.  Our  children  will  come  with  me.  If  nec- 
essary, we  will  go  to  America ;  we  will  change  our  name  ;  we 
will  work.'' 

The  knocks  on  the  outer  door  were  becoming  louder  and 
louder;  and  M.  Desormeaux's  voice  could  be  heard,  en- 
deavouring to  gain  a  few  moments  more.  "  Come,"  said 
Maxence,  you  must  not  hesitate  any  longer."  And,  over- 
coming his  father's  reluctance,  he  fastened  one  end  of  the 
sheets  around  his  waist.  "  I  am  going  to  let  you  down,  fa- 
ther," he  exclaimed ;  "  and,  as  soon  as  you  touch  the 
ground,  you  must  undo  the  knot.  Take  care  of  the  first 
floor  windows  ;  beware  too  of  the  concierge ;  and  once  in 
the  street,  don't  walk  too  fast.  Make  for  the  Boulevards, 
where  you  will  be  sooner  lost  in  the  crowd." 

The  knocks  had  now  become  violent  blows ;  and  it  was 
evident  that  the  door  would  soon  be  broken  in,  if  M.  De- 
sormeaux  did  not  make  up  his  mind  to  open  it.  The  light 
was  put  out.  With  the  assistance  of  his  daughter,  M. 
Favoral  lifted  himself  upon  the  window-sill,  whilst  Max- 
ence held  the  sheets  with  both  hands.  I  beseech  you, 
Vincent,"  again  begged  Madame  Favoral,  write  to  us. 
I  shall  die  if  I  do  not  soon  know  you  are  in  safety." 

Maxence  let  the  sheets  slip  slowly  \  in  two  seconds  M. 
Favoral  stood  on  the  pavement  below.  "All  right,"  he 
said.  The  young  man  drew  the  sheets  back  rapidly,  and 
threw  them  under  the  bed.  But  Mademoiselle  Gilberte 
remained  long  enough  at  the  window  to  recognise  her 
father's  voice  calling  to  the  concierge  to  pull  the  cord  that 
opened  the  street  door,  and  to  hear  it  close  behind  him. 
"  Saved  !  "  she  cried. 

It  was  none  too  soon.  M.  Desormeaux  had  just  been 
compelled  to  yield ;  and  the  commissary  of  police  was 
walking 

III. 

Thz  j^rnmissaries  of  police  of  Paris,  as  a  rule,  are  no 
simpletons ;  and,  if  they  are  ever  taken  in,  it  is  because  it 
has  suited  them  to  be  taken  in.  Their  modest  title  covers 
perhaps  the  most  important  of  magistracies,  almost  the 
only  one  known  to  the  lower  classes  ;  an  enormous  power, 


14 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


and  an  influence  so  decisive,  that  the  most  sensible  states- 
man of  the  reign  of  Louis  Philippe  dared  once  to  say  from 
the  tribune  of  the  chamber,  "  Give  me  twenty  good  com- 
missaries of  police  in  Paris,  and  I  will  do  away  with  the 
entire  government:  net  profit,  one  hundred  millions." 
Parisian  above  all,  the  commissary  has  had  ample  time  to 
study  his  ground  when  he  was  yet  only  a  police  officer. 
The  dark  side  of  the  most  brilliant  lives  has  no  longer  any 
mysteries  for  him.  He  has  received  the  strangest  confi* 
dences  :  he  has  listened  to  the  most  astounding  confessions. 
He  knows  how  low  humanity  can  stoop,  and  what  abber- 
rations  there  are  in  brains  apparently  the  soundest.  The 
workwoman  whom  her  husband  beats,  and  the  great  lady 
whom  her  husband  robs,  have  both  applied  to  him.  He 
has  been  sent  for  by  the  shopkeeper  whom  his  wife  de- 
ceives, and  by  the  millionaire  who  has  been  blackmailed. 
To  his  office,  as  to  a  lay  confessional,  all  passions  fatally 
lead.  It  is  there  that  the  dirty  linen  of  two  millions  of 
people  is  washed  amongst  themselves.  A  Paris  commis- 
sary of  police,  who,  after  ten  years'  practice,  could  retain 
an  illusion,  believe  anything  in  the  world,  or  be  astonished 
at  no  matter  what,  would  be  but  a  fool.  If  he  is  still 
capable  of  some  feeling,  he  is  a  good  man.  The  one  who 
presented  himself  at  M.  Favoral's  apartments  was  already 
past  middle  age,  colder  than  ice,  and  yet  kindly,  but  of 
that  commonplace  kindliness  which  frightens  one  like  the 
executioner's  politeness  when  on  the  scaffold.  He  required 
but  a  single  glance  of  his  small  clear  eyes  to  decipher  the 
physiognomies  of  all  these  worthy  people  standing  around 
the  disordered  table.  And  signing  to  his  subordinates  to 
remain  at  the  door,  he  said,  "  M.  Vincent  Favoral  ?  " 

The  cashier's  guests,  M.  Desormeaux  excepted,  seemed 
stricken  with  stupor.  Each  one  felt  as  if  he  had  a  share 
of  the  disgrace  of  this  police  invasion.  The  dupes  who 
are  sometimes  caught  in  gambling  hells  have  the  same 
humiliated  attitudes.  At  last,  and  not  without  an  effort, 
M.  Chapelain,  the  ex-lawyer,  replied  : — "  M.  Favoral  is  no 
longer  here." 

The  commissary  of  police  started.  Whilst  they  were 
parleying  with  him,  he  had  perfectly  well  understood  that 
they  were  only  trying  to  gain  time,  and,  if  he  had  not  at 
once  burst  in  the  door,  it  was  solely  owing  to  his  respect 
for  M.  Desormeaux,  whom  he  knew  personally,  as  one  of 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


15 


the  heads  of  department  at  the  Ministry  of  Justice.  But 
his  suspicions  did  not  extend  beyond  the  destruction  of  a 
few  compromising  papers.  Whereas,  in  fact, — You  have 
helped  M.  Favoral  to  escape,  gentleman  ?  "  said  he.  No 
one  replied.  "  Your  silence  is  an  avowal,"  he  added. 
"  Very  well,  which  way  did  he  get  off  ?  "  Still  no  answer. 
M.  Desclavettes  would  have  been  glad  to  add  something 
more  to  the  forty-five  thousand  francs  he  had  just  heard 
he  had  lost,  to  be,  together  with  Madame  Desclavettes,  a 
hundred  miles  away.  *^  Where  is  Madame  Favoral  re- 
sumed the  commissary,  evidently  well  informed.  "  Where 
are  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  and  M.  Maxence  Favoral  t " 
Still  no  reply.  No  one  in  the  dining-room  knew  what  had 
taken  place  in  the  bed  chamber  ;  and  a  single  word  might 
betray  their  friend.  The  commissary  at  last  beecame  im- 
patient. "  Bring  a  light,''  said  he  to  his  men,  who  had  re- 
mained at  the  door,  and  follow  me.  We  shall  soon  see." 
And  without  a  shadow  of  hesitation,  for,  the  same  as  rob- 
bers, members  of  the  police  seem  to  have  the  privilege  of 
being  everywhere  at  home,  he  crossed  the  drawing-room 
and  reached  Mademoiselle  Gilberte's  bedchamber,  just  as 
she  was  withdrawing  from  the  window.  "Ah,  so  that's 
the  way  he  escaped  !  "  he  exclaimed.  He  rushed  to  the 
window  and  peered  out  long  enough  to  thoroughly  examine 
the  ground,  and  understand  the  situation  of  the  apartment. 
"  It's  evident,"  he  said  at  last,  "  this  window  opens  on  the 
courtyard  of  the  next  house."  This  was  said  to  one  of  his 
agents,  who  bore  an  unmistakable  resemblance  to  the  ser- 
vant who  had  been  asking  all  those  questions  in  the  after- 
noon. "  Instead  of  gathering  so  much  useless  information," 
he  added,  *'why  did  you  not  acquaint  yourself  with  the 
outlets  of  the  house  ?  " 

He  was  "  sold  " ;  and  yet  he  manifested  neither  spite 
nor  anger.  He  seemed  in  no  wise  anxious  to  run  after  the 
fugitive.  Upon  the  features  of  Maxence  and  of  Mademoi- 
selle Gilberte,  and  more  still  in  Madame  Favoral's  eyes, 
he  had  read  that  it  would  be  useless  for  the  present. 
"  We  will  at  least  examine  his  papers  then,"  said  he. 

"  My  husband's  papers  are  all  in  his  study,"  replied 
Madame  Favoral. 

"  Please  lead  me  to  it,  madame." 

The  apartment  which  M.  Favoral  so  pompously  called 
his  study  was  a  small  room  with  a  tile  floor  and  white- 


i6 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


washed  walls,  and  was  meanly  lighted  through  a  harrow 
transom.  The  furniture  consisted  of  an  old-writing  table, 
a  small  cupboard,  a  few  shelves  upon  which  were  piled 
some  portfolios  and  bundles  of  old  newspapers,  and  two 
or  three  deal  chairs.  "  Where  are  the  keys  ?  "  inquired 
the  commissary  of  police. 

"  My  father  always  carries  them  in  his  pocket,  sir/'  replied 
Maxence. 

"  Fetch  a  locksmith.'' 

Stronger  than  fear,  curiosity  had  attracted  all  the  guests 
of  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank,  M.  Desormeaux, 
M.  Chapelain,  M.  Desclavettes  himself;  and  standing  by 
the  door,  they  followed  eagerly  every  motion  of  the  com- 
missary, who,  pending  the  arrival  of  the  locksmith,  was 
making  a  flying  examination  of  the  bundles  of  papers  left 
upon  the  writing  table.  After  a  while,  and  unable  to  con- 
tain himself  any  longer,  the  old  bronze  merchant  timidly 
inquired,  "  Would  it  be  indiscreet  to  ask  the  nature  of  the 
charges  against  poor  Favoral  ? " 

"  Embezzlement,  sir." 

"  And  is  the  amount  large  ?  " 

"  Had  it  been  small,  I  should  have  said  theft.  Embez- 
zlement commences  only  when  the  amount  has  reached 
certain  proportions." 

Annoyed  at  the  sardonic  tone  of  the  commissary,  M. 
Chapelain  resumed  :  "  The  fact  is,  Favoral  was  our  friend, 
and  if,  by  joining  together  and  each  contributing  some- 
thing we  could  get  him  out  of  the  scrape — " 

It's  a  matter  of  ten  or  twelve  millions,  gentlemen  !  " 

Was  it  possible  1  Was  it  even  likely  ?  Could  any  one 
imagine  so  many  millions  slipping  through  the  fingers  of 
M.  de  Thaller's  methodic  cashier.  "  Ah,  sir  !  "  exclaimed 
Madame  Favoral,  "  if  anything  could  relieve  my  feelings, 
the  enormity  of  the  sum  would  !  My  husband  was  a  man 
of  simple  and  modest  tastes — " 

The  commissary  shook  his  head.  "  There  are  certain 
passions,"  he  interrupted,  which  nothing  betrays  exter- 
nally. Gambling  is  more  terrible  than  fire.  After  a  con- 
flagration, some  charred  remnants  at  least  are  found. 
What  is  there  left  after  a  lost  game  ?  Fortunes  may  be 
thrown  into  the  vortex  ot  the  Bourse,  without  a  trace  of 
them  being  left." 

The  unfortunate  woman  was  not  convinced.    "  I  could 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


17 


swear,  sir,"  she  protested,  "  that  I  knew  how  my  husband 
spent  every  hour  of  his  life.'* 
"  Do  not  swear,  madame/' 

"  All  our  friends  will  tell  you  how  parsimonious  my  hus- 
band  was.'' 

"  Here  madame,  towards  yourself  and  your  children,  I 
believe  it,  in  fact  I  see  it ;  but  elsewhere  t " 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  the  locksmith,  who, 
in  a  couple  of  minutes,  had  picked  all  the  locks  of  the  old 
writing-table.  But  in  vain  did  the  commissary  search  all 
the  drawers.  He  found  only  those  useless  papers  which 
become  relics  for  those  people  who  have  made  order  their 
religious  faith, — uninteresting  letters,  grocers'  and  butch- 
ers' bills  running  back  twenty  years.  "  It  is  a  waste  of 
time  to  look  for  anything  here,"  he  growled.  And  in  fact 
he  was  about  to  give  up  his  perquisitions,  when  a  bundle 
thinner  than  the  rest  attracted  his  attention.  He  cut  the 
thread  that  bound  it ;  and  almost  at  once,  exclaimed,  I 
was  sure  of  it."  Then  holding  out  a  paper  to  Madame 
Favoral,  he  added,  "  Read  that,  madame,  if  you  please." 

It  was  a  bill.    She  read  thus  : — 

"Sold  to  M.  Favoral  a  Cashmere  shawl,  fr.  8,500. 

Received  payment,  Forbe  &  Towler." 

"  Was  it  for  you,  madame,"  asked  the  commissary,  "  that 
this  magnificent  shawl  was  bought  t " 

Though  greatly  astonished,  the  poor  woman  still  refused 
to  admit  the  evidence.  "  Madame  de  Thaller  spends  a 
great  deal,"  she  stammered.  "  My  husband  often  made 
important  purchases  on  her  account." 

"  Often,  indeed  !  "  interrupted  the  commissary  of  police  ; 
"  for  here  are  many  other  receipted  bills, — ear-rings,  six- 
teen thousand  francs ;  a  bracelet,  three  thousand  francs ; 
a  drawing-room  suite,  a  horse,  two  velvet  dresses.  Here  is, 
at  least,  a  part,  though  not  the  whole,  of  the  ten  millions." 


IV. 

Had  the  commissary  received  any  information  in  ad- 
vance ?  or  was  he  guided  only  by  the  instinct  peculiar  to 
men  of  his  profession,  and  the  habit  of  suspecting  every- 
thing, even  that  which  seems  most  unlikely  ?    At  any  rate, 
2 


18 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


he  expressed  himself  in  a  tone  of  absolute  certainty.  The 
agents  who  had  accompanied  and  who  assisted  him  in  his 
researches  were  winking  at  each  other,  and  giggling  stu- 
pidly. The  situation  struck  them  as  rather  amusing. 
The  others,  M.  Desclavettes,  M.  Chapelain,  and  the 
worthy  M.  Desormeaux  himself,  would  have  vainly  racked 
their  brains  to  find  terms  wherein  to  express  the  immensity 
of  their  astonishment.  Vincent  Favoral,  their  old  friend, 
paying  for  cashmere  shawls,  diamonds,  and  drawing-room 
suites  !  Such  an  idea  could  not  find  place  in  their  minds. 
For  whom  could  such  princely  gifts  be  intended  ?  For  a 
mistress,  for  one  of  those  formidable  creatures  whom 
fancy  represents  crouching  in  the  depths  of  love,  like 
monsters  in  their  dens  !  But  how  could  any  one  imagine 
the  methodic  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  carried 
away  by  one  of  those  insane  passions  which  no  longer 
reason  ?  Ruined  by  gambling,  perhaps,  but  by  a  woman  ! 
.  .  .  .  Could  any  one  picture  him,  so  homely  and  so  plain 
here.  Rue  St,  Gilles,  at  the  head  of  another  establishment, 
elsewhere,  and  leading  in  one  of  the  brilliant  quarters  of 
Paris,  a  reckless  life,  such  as  strike  terror  in  the  bosoms 
of  quiet  families  ?  Could  any  one  understand  the  same 
man  at  once  miserly-economical  and  madly-prodigal,  storm- 
ing when  his  wife  spent  a  few  centimes,  and  robbing  to 
supply  the  shameful  luxuries  of  an  adventuress  ;  collecting 
in  the  same  drawer  the  jeweller's  receipts  and  the  butcher's 
tickets  ? 

"  It  is  the  climax  of  absurdity,"  murmured  the  excellent 
M.  Desormeaux. 

Maxence  fairly  shook  with  wrath.  Mademoiselle  Gil- 
berte  had  dropped  on  to  a  chair  near  the  writing-table, 
and  was  weeping.  Madame  Favoral,  usually  so  timid, 
alone  boldly  defended,  and  with  her  utmost  energy,  the 
man  whose  name  she  bore.  That  he  might  have  embez- 
zled millions,  she  admitted.  That  he  had  deceived  and 
betrayed  her  so  shamefully,  that  he  had  made  such  a 
wretched  dupe  of  her  for  so  many  years,  seemed  to  her 
insensate,  monstrous,  impossible.  "  Your  suspicions  would 
vanish  at  once,  sir,"  said  she,  purple  with  shame,  to  the 
commissary,  "  if  you  would  allow  me  to  explain  to  you  our 
mode  of  life." 

Encouraged  by  his  first  discovery,  he  was  proceeding 
more  minutely  with  his  perquisitions,  undoing  the  strings 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


19 


of  every  bundle.  "  It  is  useless,  madame,"  he  answered 
in  that  brief  tone  which  made  so  much  impression  upon 
M.  Desclavettes.  You  can  only  tell  me  what  you  know  ; 
and  you  know  nothing/' 

"  Never,  sir,  did  a  man  lead  a  more  regular  life  than 
M.  Favoral." 

"In  appearance,  you  are  right.  Besides,  to  regulate 
one's  disorder  is  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  our  time.  We 
open  credits  to  our  passions,  and  we  keep  an  account  of 
our  infamies  by  double  entry.  We  operate  methodically. 
We  embezzle  millions  that  we  may  hang  diamonds  to  the 
ears  of  some  young  person  ;  but  we  are  careful,  and  we 
keep  the  receipted  bills." 

"  But,  sir,  I  have  already  told  you  that  I  never  lost  sight 
of  my  husband — '' 

"  Of  course." 

"  Every  morning,  precisely  at  nine  o'clock,  he  left  home 
to  go  M.  de  Thaller's  office." 

"  The  whole  neighbourhood  knows  that,  madame." 

"  At  half-past  five  he  returned  home." 

"That,  also,  is  a  well-known  fact." 

"  In  the  evening,  after  his  dinner,  he  went  out  to  his  cafe, 
but  it  was  his  only  amusement ;  and  he  was  always  in  bed 
by  eleven  o'clock." 

"  Perfectly  correct." 

"  Well,  then,  sir,  where  could  M.  Favoral  have  found 
time  to  abandon  himself  to  the  excesses  of  which  you  ac- 
cuse him  ? " 

Imperceptibly  the  commissary  of  police  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  "  Far  from  me,  madame,"  said  he,  "  to  doubt 
your  good  faith.  What  matters,  moreover,  the  way  in  which 
your  husband  spent  the  sums  which  he  is  charged  with  hav- 
ing appropriated  ?  But  what  do  your  arguments  prove  ? 
Simply  that  M.  Favoral  was  very  skilful,  and  very  self-pos- 
sessed., Had  he  breakfasted  when  he  left  you  at  nine  ?  No. 
Where  then,  pray,  did  he  breakfast }  In  a  restaurant  1 
Which  ?  Why  did  he  only  come  home  at  half-past  five, 
when  his  ofiice  actually  closed  at  three  o'clock  ?  Are  you 
quite  sure  that  it  was  to  the  Cafe  Turc  that  he  went  every 
evening  ?  Finally,  why  do  you  not  say  anything  of  the 
extra  work  which  he  always  had  to  attend  to,  as  he  pre- 
tended, once  or  twice  a  month  ?  Sometimes  it  was  a  loan, 
sometimes  a  liquidation,  or  a  settlement  of  dividends,  which 


20 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


devolved  upon  him.  Did  he  come  home  then  ?  No.  He 
told  you  that  he  would  dine  out,  and  that  it  would  be  more 
convenient  for  him  to  have  a  bed  made  up  in  his  office  ;  and 
thus  you  were  twenty-four  or  forty-eight  hours  without  see- 
ing him.  Surely  this  double  existence  must  have  weighed 
heavily  upon  him  ;  but  he  was  forbidden  from  breaking  off 
with  you,  under  penalty  of  being  caught  the  very  next  day 
with  his  hand  in  the  till.  It  is  the  respectability  of  his 
life  here  which  made  the  other  possible, — the  one  which 
has  absorbed  such  enormous  sums.  The  harsher  and 
the  closer  he  was  here,  the  more  magnificent  he  could  show 
himself  elsewhere.  His  household  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles 
was  for  him  a  certificate  of  impunity.  Seeing  him  so  eco- 
nomical, every  one  thought  him  rich.  People  who  seem 
to  spend  nothing  are  always  trusted.  Every  privation 
which  he  imposed  upon  you  increased  his  reputation  of 
austere  probit}^,  and  raised  him  farther  above  suspicion — 

Big  tears  were  rolling  down  Madame  Favoral's  cheeks. 

Why  not  tell  me  the  whole  truth  1  "  she  stammered. 

"  Because  I  do  not  know  it,"  replied  the  commissary ; 

because  these  are  all  mere  presumptions.  I  have  seen 
so  many  instances  of  sirnilar  calculations  !  "  Then  regret- 
ting, perhaps,  to  have  said  so  much,  he  added,  But  I  may 
be  mistaken,  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  infallible.''  He  was 
just  then  completing  a  brief  inventory  of  all  the  papers 
found  in  the  old  writing-table.  There  was  nothing  left  to 
examine  but  the  drawer  which  was  used  as  a  sort  of  till.  He 
found  in  it,  in  gold,  notes,  and  small  change,  seven  hun- 
dred and  eighteen  francs.  Having  counted  this  sum,  the 
commissary  offered  it  to  Madame  Favoral,  saying,  This 
belongs  to  you,  madame." 

But  instinctively  she  withdrew  her  hand.  "  Never  !  " 
she  said. 

The  commissary  added  with  a  kindly  look :  "  I  under- 
stand your  scruples,  madame,  and  yet  I  must  insist.  You 
may  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  this  little  sum  is  legiti- 
mately yours.    You  have  no  personal  fortune  ? " 

The  efforts  of  the  poor  woman  to  keep  from  bursting  into 
loud  sobs  were  but  too  visible.  "  I  possess  nothing  in  the 
world,  sir,"  she  replied,  in  a  broken  voice.  "  My  husband 
alone  attended  to  our  business-affairs.  He  never  spoke  to 
me  about  them ;  and  I  would  not  have  dared  to  question 
him.    Alone  he  disposed  of  the  money.    Every  Sunday  he 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


21 


handed  me  the  amount  which  he  thought  necessary  for 
the  week's  expenses,  and  I  rendered  him  an  account  of  it. 
When  my  children  or  myself  were  in  need  of  anything,  I  told 
him  so,  and  he  gave  me  what  he  thought  proper.  This  is 
Saturday:  of  what  I  received  last  Sunday  I  have  five  francs 
left :  that  is  our  whole  fortune.'' 

Positively  the  commissary  was  moved.  "  You  see,  then, 
madame,"  he  observed,  "  that  you  ought  not  to  hesitate. 
You  must  live." 

Maxence  stepped  forward.  "  Am  I  not  here,  sir  ?  "  he 
asked. 

The  commissary  looked  at  him  keenly,  aiad  replied  in  a 
grave  tone, — "  I  believe  indeed,  sir,  that  you  will  not  allow 
your  mother  and  sister  to  want  for  anything.  But  re- 
sources are  not  created  in  a  day.  Your  own,  if  I  have 
not  been  deceived,  are  more  than  limited  just  now."  And 
as  the  young  man  blushed,  and  did  not  answer,  he  handed 
the  seven  hundred  francs  to  Mademoiselle  Gilberte,  saying 
— "  Take  these,  mademoiselle  :  your  mother  permits  it." 

His  work  was  done.  To  place  his  seals  upon  M.  Fa- 
voral's  study  was  the  work  of  a  moment.  Motioning  then 
to  his  subordinates  to  withdraw,  and  being  ready  to  leave 
himself,  he  said  to  Madame  Favoral :  "  Do  not  let  the 
seals  cause  you  any  uneasiness,  madame.  Before  forty- 
eight  hours  are  passed,  some  one  will  come  to  remove  these 
papers,  and  restore  to  you  the  free  use  of  this  room." 

Well !  "  exclaimed  M.  Desormeaux,  as  soon  as  the 
commissary  had  gone  out,  and  the  door  closed  behind 
him. 

But  no  one  had  anything  to  say.  The  guests  were  mak- 
ing haste  to  leave  the  house  where  misfortune  had  just  en- 
tered. The  catastrophe  was  certainly  terrible  and  unfore- 
seen ;  but  did  it  not  reach  them  too  ?  Did  they  not  lose, 
among  them  more  then  three  hundred  thousand  francs  ? 
Thus,  after  a  few  commonplace  protestations,  and  some  of 
those  promises  which  mean  nothing,  they  withdrew  ;  and, 
as  they  were  going  down  the  stairs,  M.  Desormeaux  re- 
marked,— "The  commissary  took  Vincent's  escape  too 
quietly.    He  must  know  some  way  to  catch  him  again." 


22 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


V. 

At  last  Madame  Favoral  found  herself  alone  with  hei 
children,  and  free  to  give  way  to  the  most  frightful  de- 
spair.  She  dropped  heavily  upon  a  seat ;  and,  drawing 
Maxence  and  Gilberte  to  her  bosom,  O  my  children  !  " 
she  sobbed,  covering  them  with  her  kisses  and  her  tears, 
"  my  children,  we  are  most  unfortunate  ! 

Not  less  distressed  than  herself,  they  strove,  neverthe- 
less, to  mitigate  her  anguish,  to  inspire  her  with  sufficient 
courage  to  bear  this  crushing  trial ;  and  kneeling  at  her 
feet,  and  kissing  her  hands,  they  kept  repeating  :  "  Are  we 
not  left  you,  mother  ?  " 

But  she  did  not  seem  to  hear  them,  and  continued, — "  It 
is  not  for  myself  that  I  weep.  I  !  what  had  I  to  wait  or 
hope  for  in  life  ?  Whilst  you,  Maxence,  you,  my  poor  Gil- 
berte !  If,  at  least,  I  was  blameless  !  But  no.  It  is  my 
weakness  and  my  want  of  courage  that  have  brought  on 
this  catastrophe.  I  shrank  from  the  struggle.  I  purchas* 
ed  my  domestic  peace  at  the  cost  of  your  future.  I  for* 
got  that  a  mother  has  sacred  duties  tow^ards  her  children." 

Madame  Favoral  was  at  this  time  a  woman  of  some 
forty-three  years,  with  delicate  and  mild  features,  a  coun- 
tenance overflowing  with  kindness,  and  whose  whole  being 
exhaled,  as  it  were,  an  exquisite  perfume  of  noblesse  and 
distinction.  Happy,  she  might  have  been  beautiful  still, 
of  that  autumnal  beauty  whose  maturity  has  the  splen- 
dours of  the  luscious  fruits  of  the  later  season.  But  she 
had  suffered  so  much !  The  livid  paleness  of  her  com- 
plexion, the  rigid  fold  of  her  lips,  the  nervous  shudders 
that  shook  her  frame,  revealed  a  whole  existence  of  bitter 
deceptions,  of  exhausting  struggles,  and  of  proudly  con- 
cealed humiliations.  And  yet  everything  seemed  to  smile 
upon  her  at  the  outset  of  life.  She  was  an  only  daughter ; 
and  parents,  wealthy  silk-merchants,  had  brought  her  up 
like  the  daughter  of  an  archduchess,  destined  to  marry 
some  foreign  prince.  But  at  fifteen  she  had  lost  her 
mother.  Her  father,  soon  tired  of  his  lonely  fireside,  com- 
menced to  seek  away  from  home  some  diversion  from  his 
sorrow.  He  was  a  weak-minded  man,  one  of  those  to 
play  the  part  of  eternal  dupes.  Having  money,  he  found 
many  friends.    Having  once  tasted  the  cup  of  facile  pleas- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


-3 


ures,  he  yielded  readily  to  its  intoxication.  He  amused 
himself,  he  supped,  he  gambled,  to  the  utter  detriment  of 
his  business.  And  eighteen  months  after  his  wife's  death, 
he  had  already  squandered  a  large  portion  of  his  fortune, 
when  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  an  adventuress,  whom, 
without  regard  for  his  daughter,  he  audaciously  installed 
beneath  his  own  roof.  In  the  country,  where  everybody 
knows  everybody  else,  such  infamies  are  almost  impossi- 
ble. They  are'not  quite  so  rare  in  Paris,  where  one  is,  so  to 
speak,  lost  in  the  crowd,  and  where  the  restraining  power 
of  the  neighbour's  opinion  is  lacking.  For  two  years  the 
poor  girl,  condemned  to  live  with  this  illegitimate  step- 
mother, endured  nameless  sufferings. 

She  had  just  completed  her  eighteenth  year,  when,  one 
evening,  her  father  took  her  aside,  and  said, — ^'  I  have 
made  up  my  mind  to  marry  again,  but  I  wish  first  to  pro- 
vide you  with  a  husband.  Having  looked  for  one,  I  have 
found  him.  He  is  not  very  brilliant  perhaps  ;  but  he  is,  it 
seems,  a  good,  hard-working,  economical  fellow,  who'll 
make  his  way  in  the  world.  I  had  dreamed  of  something 
better  for  you,  but  times  are  hard,  trade  is  bad  ;  in  short, 
having  only  a  dowry  of  twenty  thousand  francs  to  give 
you,  I  have  no  right  to  be  very  particular.  To-morrow, 
I'll  bring  you  my  candidate."  And,  sure  enough,  the  next 
day  that  excellent  father  introduced  M.  Vincent  Favoral  to 
his  daughter.  She  was  not  pleased  with  him ;  but  she 
dared  not  have  said  that  she  was  displeased.  He  was,  at 
the  age  of  twenty-five,  which  he  had  just  reached,  a  man 
so  utterly  lacking  in  individuality,  that  he  could  scarcely 
have  excited  any  feeling  either  of  sympathy  or  aversion. 
Suitably  dressed,  he  seemed  timid  and  awkward,  reserved, 
very  diffident,  and  of  mediocre  intelligence.  He  confessed 
to  have  received  a  most  imperfect  education,  and  de- 
clared himself  quite  ignorant  of  life.  He  had  scarcely 
any  means  outside  his  profession.  He  was  at  that  time 
chief  accountant  in  a  large  factory  of  the  Faubourg  St. 
Antoine,  with  a  salary  of  four  thousand  francs  a  year.  The 
young  girl  did  not  hesitate  a  moment.  Anything  ap- 
peared to  her  preferable  to  the  incessant  contact  of  a 
woman  whom  she  abhorred  and  despised.  She  gave  her 
consent ;  and,  twenty  days  after  the  first  interview,  she 
became  Madame  Favoral.  Alas !  six  weeks  had  not 
elapsed,  before  she  knew  that  she  had  but  exchanged  her 


24 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


wretched  fate  for  a  more  wretched  one  still.  Not  that  her 
husband  was  in  any  way  unkind  to  her  (he  dared  not,  as 
yet) ;  but  he  had  revealed  himself  enough  to  enable  her  to 
judge  him.  He  was  one  of  those  formidably  selfish  men 
who  wither  everything  around  them,  like  those  trees  within 
the  shadow  of  which  nothing  can  grow.  His  coldness 
concealed  a  stupid  obstinacy ;  his  mildness  an  iron  wilL 
If  he  had  married,  it  was  because  he  thought  a  wife  a  nec- 
essary adjunct,  because  he  desired  a  home  wherein  to 
command,  because,  above  ail,  he  had  been  seduced  by  the 
dowry  of  twenty  thousand  francs. 

For  the  man  had  one  passion, — money.  Under  his  pla- 
cid countenance  revolved  thoughts  of  the  most  burning 
covetousness.  He  wished  to  be  rich.  Now,  as  he  had 
no  illusion  whatever  upon  his  own  merits,  as  he  knew  him- 
self to  be  perfectly  incapable  of  any  of  those  daring  con- 
ceptions which  lead  to  rapid  fortune,  as  he  was  in  no  wise 
enterprising,  he  conceived  but  one  means  to  achieve 
wealth,  and  that  was,  to  save,  to  economise,  to  stint  him- 
self, to  pile  sou  upon  sou.  His  profession  of  accountant 
had  furnished  him  with  a  number  of  instances  of  the  finan- 
cial power  of  the  sou  daily  saved,  and  invested  so  as  to  yield 
its  maximum  of  interest.  If  ever  his  blue  eye  became 
animated,  it  was  when  he  calculated  what  would  be  at  the 
present  time  the  capital  produced  by  a  single  sou  placed 
at  five  per  cent  interest  the  year  of  the  birth  of  our  Sa- 
viour. For  him  this  was  sublime.  He  conceived  nothing 
beyond.  One  sou  !  He  wished,  he  said,  he  could  have 
lived  eighteen  hundred  years  to  follow  the  evolutions  of 
that  sou,  to  see  it  grow  ten-fold,  a  hundred-fold,  produce, 
swell,  enlarge, and  become,  after  centuries,  millions  and  hun- 
dreds of  millions.  In  spite  of  all,  he  had,  during  the  early 
months  of  his  marriage,  allowed  his  wife  to  have  a  young 
servant.  He  gave  her,  from  time  to  time,  a  five-franc- 
piece,  and  took  her  into  the  country  on  Sundays.  This 
was  the  honeymoon  ;  and,  as  he  declared  himself,  this  life 
of  prodigalities  could  not  last.  Under  a  futile  pretext, 
the  little  servant  was  dismissed.  He  tightened  his  purse- 
strings.  The  Sunday  excursions  were  suppressed.  To 
mere  economy  succeeded  the  niggardly  parsimony  which 
counts  the  grains  of  salt  in  a  stew,  which  weighs 
the  soap  for  the  washing,  and  measures  the  evening's  al- 
lowance of  candle. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


Gradually  the  accountant  took  the  habit  of  treating  his 
young  wife  like  a  servant,  whose  honesty  is  suspected  ;  or 
like  a  child,  whose  thoughtlessness  is  to  be  feared.  Every 
morning  he  handed  her  the  money  for  the  expenses  of  the 
day ;  and  every  evening  he  expressed  his  surprise  that  she 
had  not  made  better  use  of  it.  He  accused  her  of  allow- 
ing herself  to  be  grossly  cheated,  or  even  to  be  in  collusion 
with  the  tradespeople.  He  charged  her  with  being  fool- 
ishly  extravagant ;  which  fact,  however,  he  added,  did  not 
surprise  him  much  on  the  part  of  the  daughter  of  a  man 
who  had  dissipated  a  large  fortune.  To  cap  the  climax, 
Vincent  Favoral  was  on  the  worst  possible  terms  with  his 
father-in-law.  Of  the  twenty  thousand  francs  of  his  wife's 
dowry,  twelve  thousand  only  had  been  paid,  and  it  was 
in  vain  that  he  clamoured  for  the  balance.  The  silk-mer- 
chant's business  had  become  unprofitable  ;  he  was  on  the 
verge  of  bankruptcy.  The  eight  thousand  francs  seemed 
in  imminent  danger.  His  wife  alone  he  held  responsible 
for  this  deception.  He  repeated  to  her  constantly  that 
she  had  connived  with  her  father  to  "  take  him  in,"  to 
fleece  him,  to  ruin  him.  What  an  existence  !  Certainl}^, 
had  the  unhappy  woman  known  where  to  find  a  refuge, 
she  would  have  fled  from  that  home  where  each  of  her 
days  was  but  a  protracted  torture.  But  where  could  she 
go  ?  Of  whom  could  she  beg  a  shelter  ?  She  had  terrible 
temptations  at  this  time,  when  she  was  not  yet  twenty,  and 
everybody  called  her  the  beautiful  Madame  Favoral. 
Perhaps  she  would  have  succumbed,  had  she  not  discov- 
ered that  she  was  about  to  become  a  mother.  One  year, 
day  for  day,  after  her  marriage,  she  gave  birth  to  a  son,  who 
received  the  name  of  Maxence. 

The  accountant  was  but  indifferently  pleased  at  the  com- 
ing of  this  son.  It  was,  above  all,  a  cause  of  expense.  He 
had  been  compelled  to  give  some  thirty  francs  to  a  nurse,  and 
almost  twice  as  much  for  the  baby's  clothes.  Then  a  child 
breaks  up  the  regularity  of  one's  habits ;  and  he,  as  he 
affirmed,  was  attached  to  his  as  much  as  to  life  itself.  And 
now  he  saw  his  household  disturbed,,  the  hours  of  his 
meals  altered,  his  own  importance  reduced,  his  authority, 
even,  ignored.  But  what  mattered  now  to  his  young  wife 
the  ill-humour  which  he  no  longer  took  the  trouble  to 
conceal  ?  A  mother,  she  defied  her  tyrant.  Now,  at  least, 
she  had  in  this  world  a  being  upon  whom  she  could  lavish 


26 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


all  her  caresses  so  brutally  repelled.  There  existed  a  soul 
within  which  she  reigned  supreme.  What  troubles  would 
not  a  smile  of  her  son  have  made  her  forget  ?  With  the 
admirable  instinct  of  an  egotist,  M.  Favoral  understood 
so  well  what  passed  in  the  mind  of  his  wife,  that  he  dared 
not  complain  too  much  of  what  the  little  fellow  cost.  He 
made  up  his  mind  bravely ;  and  even,  when  four  years 
later,  his  daughter  Gilberte  was  born,  instead  of  lamenting, 
he  said,    Bah !  God  blesses  large  families." 

VI. 

But  already,  at  this  epoch,  M.  Vincent  Favoral's  situa- 
tion had  been  singularly  modified.  The  revolution  of  1848 
had  just  taken  place.  The  factory  in  the  Faubourg  St. 
Antoine,  where  he  was  employed,  had  been  compelled  to 
close  its  doors.  One  evening,  as  he  came  home  to  dinner 
at  the  usual  hour,  he  announced  that  he  had  just  been 
discharged.  Madame  Favoral  shuddered  at  the  thought  of 
what  her  husband  might  be,  without  work,  and  deprived  of 
his  salary.    "  What  is  to  become  of  us  }    she  murmured. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Visibly  he  was  much 
excited.    His  cheeks  were  flushed ;  his  eyes  sparkled. 

Bah ! "  he  said  ;  we  shan't  starve  for  all  that.''  And  as  his 
wife  was  gazing  at  him  in  astonishment,  "  Well,"  he  went 
on,  "  what  are  you  looking  at  ?  It  is  so.  I  know  many  a  one 
who  affects  to  live  on  his  income,  who  is  not  as  well  off  as 
we  are." 

It  was  the  first  time  during  the  six  years  he  had  been 
married,  that  he  spoke  of  his  business  otherwise  than  to 
groan  and  complain,  to  accuse  fate,  and  curse  the  high 
price  of  living.  The  very  day  before,  he  had  declared 
himself  ruined  by  the  purchase  of  a  pair  of  shoes  for 
Maxence.  The  change  was  so  sudden  and  so  great,  that 
his  wife  hardly  knew  what  to  think,  and  wondered  if  grief 
at  the  loss  of  his  situation  had  not  somewhat  disturbed  his 
mind.    *^  Such  are  women,"  he  went  on  with  a  sneer. 

Results  astonish  them,  because  they  know  nothing  of  the 
means  used  to  bring  them  about.  Am  I  a  fool,  then  ? 
Would  I  impose  upon  myself  privations  of  all  sorts,  if  it 
were  to  accomplish  nothing  t  Zounds  !  I  love  fine  living 
too,  I  do,  and  good  dinners  at  the  restaurant ;  and  going  to 
the  theatre,  and  nice  little  excursions  in  the  country. 


07'HER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


27 


But  I  want  to  be  rich.  At  the  price  of  all  the  comforts 
which  I  have  not  had,  I  have  saved  a  capital,  the  interest 
on  which  will  support  us  all.  Ah  !  That's  the  power  of 
the  little  sou  put  out  to  fatten  ! 

As  she  went  to  bed  that  night,  Madame  Favoral  felt  more 
happy  than  she  ever  had  done  since  her  mother's  death. 
She  almost  forgave  her  husband  his  sordid  parsimony,  and 
the  humiliations  he  had  heaped  upon  her.  ^'  Well  be  it  so,'* 
she  thought.  "  I  shall  have  lived  miserably,  I  shall  have 
endured  nameless  sufferings  ;  but  my  children  will  be  rich, 
their  life  will  be  easy  and  pleasant." 

The  next  day  M.  Favoral's  excitement  had  completely 
abated.  Manifestly,  he  regretted  his  confidences.  "  You 
must  not  think  on  that  account  that  you  can  waste  and 
pillage  everything,"  he  declared  rudely.  "  Besides  I  have 
greatly  exaggerated."  And  he  started  in  search  of  a 
situation. 

To  find  one  was  likely  to  be  difficult.  The  morrow  of  a 
revolution  is  not  exactly  propitious  to  industry.  Whilst 
the  deputies  quarrelled  in  the  Chamber,  there  were  on  the 
street  twenty  thousand  clerks,  who  wondered,  every  morn- 
ing as  they  rose,  where  they  would  dine  that  day.  For 
want  of  anything  better,  Vincent  Favoral  undertook  to 
keep  the  books  of  various  people  ;  an  hour  here,  an  hour 
there,  twice  a  week  in  one  house,  four  times  in  another.  In 
this  way  he  earned  as  much  and  more  than  he  did  at  the 
factory ;  but  the  business  did  not  suit  him.  What  he  liked 
was  the  office  from  which  one  does  not  stir,  the  stove-heated 
atmosphere,  the  elbow-worn  desk,  the  leather-cushioned 
chair,  the  black  alpaca  sleeves  that  one  puts  on  to  save  the 
coat.  The  idea  that  he  should  on  one  and  the  same  day  have 
to  do  with  five  or  six  different  houses,  and  be  compelled  to 
walk  an  hour,  to  go  and  work  another  hour  at  the  other 
end  of  Paris,  fairly  irritated  him.  He  found  himself  out 
of  his  reckoning,  like  a  horse  who  has  turned  a  mill  for 
ten  years  would,  if  he  were  made  to  trot  straight  before 
him.  So,  one  morning,  he  gave  up  the  whole  thing,  swear- 
ing that  he  would  rather  remain  idle  until  he  could  find  a 
place  suited  to  his  convenience ;  and  in  the  meantime,  all 
they  would  have  to  do  would  be  to  put  a  little  less  butter 
on  the  bread,  and  a  little  more  water  in  the  wine.  He 
went  out,  nevertheless,  and  remained  until  dinner-time. 
And  he  did  the  same  the  next  and  the  following  days. 


28 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


He  started  off  the  moment  he  had  swallowed  the  last 
mouthful  of  his  breakfast,  came  home  at  six  o'clock,  dined 
in  haste,  disappeared  again,  not  to  return  until  about  mid- 
night. He  had  hours  of  delirious  joy,  and  moments  of 
frightful  discouragement.  Sometimes  he  seemed  horribly 
uneasy.  What  can  he  be  doing  ? "  thought  Madame 
Favoral.  She  ventured  to  ask  -him  the  question  one  morn- 
ing, when  he  was  in  a  good  temper. 

"  Well,'^  he  answered,  "  am  I  not  the  master I  am 
operating  at  the  Bourse,  that's  all !  " 

He  could  hardly  have  owned  to  anything  that  would 
have  frightened  the  poor  woman  as  much.  "  Are  you  not 
afraid,"  she  objected,  to  lose  all  we  nave  so  painfully 
accumulated     We  have  our  children — '' 

He  did  not  allow  her  to  proceed.  "  Do  you  take  me 
for  a  baby  ?  "  he  exclaimed :  or  do  I  look  to  you  like  a 
man  so  easy  to  be  duped  ?  Take  care  to  economise  in 
your  household  expenses,  and  don't  meddle  with  my 
business." 

And  he  continued.  And  he  must  have  been  lucky  in 
his  operations  ;  for  he  had  never  been  so  pleasant  at  home. 
All  his  ways  had  changed.  He  had  had  clothes  made  at  a 
first-class  tailor's,  and  was  evidently  trying  to  look  elegant. 
He  gave  up  his  pipe,  and  only  smoked  cigars.  He  got 
tired  of  giving  every  morning  the  money  for  the  house,  and 
got  into  the  habit  of  handing  it  to  his  wife  every  week,  on 
Sunday.  A  mark  of  vast  confidence,  as  he  observed  to 
her  the  first  time  he  gave  it.  Be  careful,"  he  added, 
"  that  you  don't  find  yourself  penniless  by  Thursday." 
He  became  also  more  communicative.  Often  during  the 
dinner,  he  would  tell  her  what  he  had  heard  during  the 
day,  anecdotes  and  gossip.  He  enumerated  the  persons 
with  whom  he  had  spoken.  He  named  a  number  of  people 
whom  he  called  his  friends,  and  whose  names  Madame 
Favoral  carefully  stored  away  in  her  memory. 

There  was  one  especially,  who  seemed  to  inspire  him 
with  a  profound  respect,  a  boundless  admiration,  and  of 
whom  he  never  tired  of  talking.  He  was,  said  he,  a  man 
of  his  age,  M.  de  Thaller,  the  Baron  de  Thaller.  "  He," 
he  kept  repeating, "  is  really  sharp ;  he  is  rich,  he  has 
ideas,  he'll  go  far.  It  would  be  a  great  piece  of  luck  if  I 
could  get  him  to  do  something  for  me  1 "    Until  at  last 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


29 


one  day,  he  asked  his  wife,  "  Your  parents  were  very  rich 
once,  were  they  not  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  say  they  were,"  she  answered. 

"  They  spent  a  good  deal  of  money,  I  suppose  ?  They 
had  friends  ;  they  gave  dinner-parties." 

"  Yes,  they  received  a  good  deal  of  company." 

"  You  remember  that  time  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  do." 

"  So  that  if  I  should  take  a  fancy  to  receive  some  one 
here,  some  one  of  note,  you  would  know  how  to  do  things 
properly  so  that  we  should  not  be  laughed  at  t  " 

"  I  think  so." 

He  remained  silent  for  a  moment,  like  a  man  who 
thinks  before  taking  an  important  decision,  and  then  said, 
— "  I  intend  to  invite  a  few  people  to  dinner." 

Madame  Favoral  could  scarcely  believe  her  ears.  He 
had  never  received  at  his  table  any  one  but  a  fellow-clerk 
at  the  factory,  named  Desclavettes,  who  had  just  married 
the  daughter  of  a  dealer  in  bronzes,  and  succeeded  to  his 
business.    "  Is  it  possible  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  it  is.  The  question  now  is,  how  much  would  a 
first-class  dinner  cost,  allowing  the  best  of  everything  ?  " 

"  That  depends  upon  the  number  of  guests.^' 

"  Say  three  or  four  persons." 

The  poor  woman  set  herself  to  calculating  diligently  for 
some  time ;  and  then  said  timidly,  for  the  sum  seemed 
formidable  to  her,  "  I  think  that  with  a  hundred  francs — " 

Her  husband  commenced  whistling.  You'll  need  that 
for  the  wines  alone,"  he  interrupted.  Do  you  take  me 
for  a  fool  ?  But  there,  don't  let  us  go  into  figures.  Do  as 
your  parents  did  when  they  did  the  best ;  and,  if  it's  well, 
I  shall  not  complain  of  the  expense.  Secure  a  good 
cook,  hire  a  waiter  who  understands  his  business  well." 

She  was  utterly  confounded  ;  and  yet  she  was  not  at  the 
end  of  her  surprises.  Soon  M.  Favoral  declared  that 
their  crockery  was  not  presentable,  and  that  he  must  buy 
a  new  set.  He  discovered  a  hundred  purchases  to  be 
made,  and  swore  that  he  would  make  them.  He  even 
hesitated  a  moment  about  renewing  the  drawing-room  fur- 
niture, although  it  was  in  very  good  condition,  and  was  a 
present  from  his  father-in-law.  And,  having  finished  his 
inventory,  he  asked  his  wife  :  "  And  you,  what  dress  will 
you  wear? " 


30 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


"  I  have  my  black  silk  dress — " 

He  stopped  her,  saying,  "  That  is  to  say  that  you  have 
none  at  all.  Very  well.  You  must  go  this  very  day  and 
get  yourself  one,  a  very  handsome,  a  magnificent  one  ;  and 
you'll  send  it  to  a  fashionable  dressmaker  to  do  up.  And 
at  the  same  time  you  had  better  get  some  little  costumes 
for  Maxence  and  Gilberte.    Here  are  a  thousand  francs." 

"  Whoever  are  you  going  to  invite,  then  ? "  she  asked, 
completely  bewildered. 

"  The  Baron  and  the  Baroness  de  Thaller,"  he  replied 
with  an  emphasis  full  of  conviction.  "  So  try  and  distin- 
guish  yourself.    Our  fortune  is  at  stake." 


VII. 

That  this  dinner  was  a  matter  of  considerable  import, 
Madame  Favoral  could  not  doubt  when  she  saw  her  hus- 
band's fabulous  liberality  continue  without  flinching  for  a 
number  of  days.  Ten  times  of  an  afternoon  would  he 
come  home  to  tell  his  wife  the  name  of  some  dish  that  had 
been  mentioned  before  him,  or  to  consult  her  on  the  sub- 
ject of  some  exotic  fruits  he  had  just  noticed  in  a  shop- 
window.  He  constantly  brought  home  wines  of  the  most 
fantastic  growths,  those  wines  which  dealers  manufacture 
for  the  special  use  of  verdant  fools,  and  which  they  sell  in 
odd-shaped  bottles  previously  besmeared  with  secular  dust 
and  cobwebs.  He  subjected  the  cook  whom  Madame 
Favoral  had  engaged,  to  a  most  protracted  cross-examina- 
tion, and  demanded  that  she  should  enumerate  the  houses 
where  she  had  cooked.  He  positively  required  the  man 
who  was  to  wait  at  the  table  to  show  him  the  dress-coat  he 
intended  wearing.  The  great  day  having  arrived,  he  did 
not  stir  from  the  house,  going  and  coming  from  the  kitchen 
to  the  dining-room,  uneasy,  agitated,  unable  to  keep  in  one 
place.  He  breathed  only  when  he  had  seen  the  table  set 
and  loaded  with  new  dinner-service  he  had  purchased  and 
the  massive  silver  spoons  and  forks  he  had  gone  to  hire 
in  person.  And  when  his  young  wife  made  her  appear- 
ance, looking  lovely  in  her  new  dress,  and  leading  by  the 
hands  the  two  children,  Maxence  and  Gilberte  in  their 
little  costumes,  he  exclaimed,  highly  delighted,  "  No\^ 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


31 


that's  perfect.  Nothing  could  be  better.  Our  four  guests 
can  come  ! " 

They  arrived  a  few  minutes  before  seven,  in  two  car- 
riages, the  magnificence  of  which  astonished  the  Rue  St 
Gilles.  And,  the  introductions  over,  Vincent  Favoral  had 
at  last  the  ineffable  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  Baron  and 
Baroness  de  Thaller,  M.  Saint-Pavin,  who  called  himself  a 
financial  editor,  and  M.  Jules  Jottras,  of  the  firm  of  Jottras 
Brothers,  seated  at  his  table.  It  was  with  eager  curiosity 
that  Madame  Favoral  watched  these  people  whom  her 
husband  called  his  friends,  and  whom  she  saw  herself  for 
the  first  time. 

M.  de  Thaller,  who  could  not  then  have  been  much 
over  thirty,  was  already  a  man  without  any  particular  age. 
Cold,  stiff,  aping  evidently  the  English  style,  he  expressed 
himself  in  brief  sentences,  and  with  a  strong  foreign 
accent.  Nothing  to  surprise  on  his  countenance.  He 
had  a  prominent  forehead,  dull  blue  eyes,  and  a  very  nar- 
row nose.  His  scanty  hair  was  spread  over  the  top  of  his 
head  with  laboured  symmetry  ;  and  his  thick  and  carefully- 
trimmed  red  beard  seemed  to  engross  much  of  his  atten- 
tion. 

M.  Saint-Pavin  had  not  the  same  stiff  manner.  He  w^as 
careless  in  his  dress,  and  lacked  breeding.  He  was  a 
robust  fellow,  dark  and  bearded,  with  thick  lips,  and  bright 
and  prominent  eyes  ;  he  spread  upon  the  table-cloth  his 
broad  hands  ornamented  at  the  joints  with  small  tufts  of 
hair ;  he  talked  loud,  lau2:hed  noisily,  ate  much,  and  drank 
more.  By  his  side,  M.  Jules  Jottras,  although  looking  like 
a  fashion-plate,  did  not  show  to  much  advantage.  Deli- 
cate, blonde,  sallow,  almost  beardless,  M.  Jules  Jottras 
distinguished  himself  only  by  a  sort  of  unconscious  impu- 
dence, a  harmless  cynicism,  and  a  sort  of  spasmodic  gig- 
gle, that  shook  the  eye-glasses  which  he  wore  stuck  upon 
his  nose. 

But  it  was  above  all  Madame  de  Thaller  who  excited 
Madame  FavoraFs  apprehensions.  Dressed  in  a  magnifi- 
cent costume  of  at  least  questionable  taste,  and  very  low 
in  the  neck,  wearing  large  diamonds  in  her  ears,  and  rings 
on  all  her  fingers,  the  young  baroness  was  insolently  hand- 
some, of  a  beauty  sensuous  even  to  coarseness.  With  hair 
of  a  bluish  black,  twisted  above  her  neck  in  heavy  ringlets, 
she  displayed  a  skin  of  a  pearly  whiteness,  lips  redder  than 


32 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


blood,  and  great  eyes  that  threw  flames  from  beneath  their 
long,  curved  lashes.  It  was  the  poetry  of  flesh ;  and  one 
could  not  help  admiring.  Did  she  speak,  however,  or 
make  a  gesture,  all  admiration  vanished.  The  voice  was 
vulgar,  the  motion  common.  If  M.  Jottras  ventured  upon 
a  word  with  a  double  meaning,  she  would  throw  herself 
back  upon  her  chair  to  laugh,  stretching  her  neck,  and 
thrusting  her  throat  forward. 

Wholly  occupied  with  serving  his  guests,  M.  Favoral  did  \ 
not  notice  their  behaviour.  He  only  thought  of  loading 
their  plates,  and  filling  their  glasses,  complaining  that  they 
ate  and  drank  nothing,  asking  anxiously  if  the  cooking  was 
not  good,  if  the  wines  were  bad,  and  almost  driving  the 
waiter  out  of  his  wits  with  questions  and  suggestions.  It 
is  a  fact,  that  neither  M.  de  Thaller  nor  M.  Jottras  had 
much  appetite.  But  M.  Saint-Pavin  officiated  for  all ;  and 
the  sole  task  of  keeping  up  with  him  caused  M.  Favoral  to 
become  visibly  animated.  His  checks  were  much  flushed, 
when,  having  passed  round  the  champagne,  he  raised  his 
froth-tipped  glass,  exclaiming, — "  I  drink  to  the  success  of 
the  scheme  !  " 

"  To  the  success  of  the  scheme ! "  echoed  the  others, 
clinking  glasses.  And  a  few  moments  later,  they  passed 
into  the  drawing-room  to  take  their  coffee. 

This  toast  had  caused  Madame  Favoral  no  little  uneasi- 
ness. But  she  found  it  impossible  to  ask  a  single  ques- 
tion, as  Madame  de  Thaller  dragged  her  almost  by  force 
to  a  seat  by  her  side  on  the  sofa,  pretending  that  two  wo- 
men always  have  secrets  to  exchange,  even  when  they  see 
each  other  for  the  first  time.  The  young  baroness  was  an 
adept  in  matters  of  bonnets  and  dresses  ;  and  it  was  with 
amazing  volubility  that  she  asked  Madame  Favoral  the 
names  of  her  milliner  and  dressmaker,  and  to  what  jeweller 
she  intrusted  her  diamonds  to  be  reset.  This  looked  so 
much  like  a  joke,  that  the  poor  little  wife  of  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles  could  not  help  smiling  whilst  answering  that  she  had 
no  dressmaker,  and  that,  possessing  no  diamonds,  she  had 
no  possible  use  for  the  services  of  a  jeweller.  The  other 
declared  she  could  not  get  over  it.  No  diamonds  !  That 
was  a  misfortune  exceeding  all  others.  And  quick  she 
charitably  seized  the  opportunity  to  enumerate  all  the  treas- 
ures of  her  jewel-case,  the  lace  in  her  drawers,  and  the 
dresses  in  her  wardrobes.    In  the  first  place,  it  would  have 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


33 


been  impossible  for  her,  she  swore,  to  live  with  a  husband 
either  miserly  or  poor.  Hers  had  just  presented  her  with 
a  lovely  brougham,  lined  with  yellow  satin,  a  perfect  gem. 
And  she  made  good  use  of  it  too,  for  she  loved  to  go  about. 
She  spent  the  day-time  in  shopping,  and  driving  in  the 
Bois.  Every  evening  she  had  the  choice  of  the  theatre  or 
a  ball,  often  both.  The  fast  theatres  were  those  she  pre- 
ferred. To  be  sure,  the  opera  and  the  Theatre  Italien 
were  more  styHsh ;  but  she  could  not  help  gaping  there. 
Then  she  wanted  to  kiss  the  children,  and  Gilberte  and 
Maxence  had  to  be  brought  in,  She  adored  children,  she 
vowed  it  was  her  weakness,  her  passion.  She  had  herself 
a  little  girl,  eighteen  months  old,  called  Cesarine,  on  whom 
she  doted,  and  she  certainly  would  have  brought  her,  had 
she  not  feared  that  she  would  have  been  in  the  way. 

All  this  chatter  sounded  like  a  confused  murmur  to  Mad- 
ame Favoral's  ears.  "Yes,  no,''  she  replied,  hardly 
knowing  to  what  she  did  answer.  Her  head  heavy  with  a 
vague  apprehension,  it  required  her  utmost  attention  to  ob- 
serve her  husband  and  his  guests.  Standing  by  the  man- 
telpiece, smoking  their  cigars,  they  conversed  with  consid- 
erable animation,  but  not  loud  enough  to  enable  her  to 
hear  all  they  said.  It  was  only  when  M.  Saint-Pavin 
spoke  that  she  understood  that  they  were  still  talking  of 
the  scheme,  for  he  spoke  of  articles  to  publish,  shares  to 
sell,  dividends  to  distribute  and  sure  profits  to  reapo  They 
all,  too,  seemed  to  agree  perfectly,  and  at  a  certain  mo- 
ment she  saw  her  husband  and  M.  de  Thaller  shake  hands, 
as  people  do  when  they  enter  into  an  engagement. 

Eleven  o'clock  struck.  M.  Favoral  was  trying  to  make 
his  guests  accept  a  cup  of  tea  or  a  glass  of  punch,  but  M.  de 
Thaller  declared  that  he  had  some  work  to  do,  and  that  his 
carriage  having  come,  he  must  go.  ^  And  go  he  did,  taking 
with  him  the  baroness,  followed  by  M.  Saint-Pavin  and  M. 
Jottras.  And  when,  the  door  having  closed  upon  them,  M. 
Favoral  found  himself  alone  with  his  wife,  he  exclaimed, 
swelling  with  gratified  vanity,  "  Well,  what  do  you  think  of 
our  friends  ?  " 

"  They  surprised  me,"  she  answered. 

He  fairly  jumped  at  that  word.  "  I  should  like  to  know 
why  ?  " 

Then,  timidly,  and  with  infinite  precautions,  she  com- 
menced explaining  .that  M.  de  Thaller's  face  inspired  her 
3 


34 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


with  no  confidence  ;  that  M.  Jottras  had  seemed  to  her 
a  very  impudent  personage  ;  that  M.  Saint-Pavin  appeared 
low  and  vulgar;  and  that  the  young  baroness  had  given 
her  of  herself  the  most  singular  opinion.  M.  Favoral  re* 
fused  to  hear  more.  "  It's  because  you  have  never  seen 
people  of  the  best  society/'  he  exclaimed. 

"  Excuse  me.    Formerly,  during  my  mother's  lifetime — " 
"  Eh  !    Why,  your  mother  never  received  any  but  shop 
keepers." 

The  poor  woman  bowed  her  head.  "  I  beg  of  you,  Vin- 
cent," she  insisted,  before  doing  anything  with  these 
new  friends,  think  well,  consult — " 

He  burst  out  laughing.  Are  you  not  afraid  that  they 
will  rob  me  ?  "  he  said, — "  people  ten  times  as  rich  as  I  am. 
Here,  don't  let  us  speak  of  it  any  more,  and  let  us  go  to 
bed.  You'll  see  what  this  dinner  will  bring  us,  and  whether 
I  ever  have  reason  to  regret  the  money  I  have  spent  I  " 


VIIL 

When,  on  the  morning  after  this  dinner,  which  was  to 
form  an  era  in  her  life,  Madame  Favoral  awoke,  her  hus- 
band was  already  up,  pencil  in  hand,  and  busy  adding  up. 
The  charm  had  vanished  with  the  fumes  of  the  champagne, 
and  the  clouds  of  the  worst  days  were  gathering  upon  his 
brow.  "  It's  expensive  work  to  set  a  business  going,"  he 
said  in  a  bluff  tone,  noticing  that  his  wife  was  looking  at 
him  ;  "  and  it  wouldn't  do  to  commence  over  again  every 
day." 

To  hear  him  speak,  one  would  have  imagined  that  Mad- 
ame Favoral  alone,  by  continual  worrying,  had  persuaded 
him  to  incur  the  expense  he  now  seemed  to  regret  so  much. 
She  quietly  called  his  attention  to  this,  reminding  him 
that,  far  from  urging,  she  had  endeavoured  to  hold  him 
back,  repeating  that  she  augured  ill  of  the  business  about 
which  he  was  so  enthusiastic,  and  that,  if  he  would  believe 
her  he  would  not  venture — 

Do  you  even  know  what  the  project  is  ? "  he  inter- 
rupted rudely, 

"  You  have  not  told  me." 
Very  well,  then  ;  leave  me  in  peace  with  your  presenti- 
ments.   You  dislike  my  friends,  and  I  saw  very  well  how 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


35 


you  treated  Madame  de  Thaller.  But  I  am  the  master, 
and  what  I  have  decided  shall  be.  Besides,  I  have  signed. 
Once  for  all,  I  forbid  you  ever  speaking  to  me  again  on 
this  subject.  Whereupon,  having  dressed  himself  with 
much  care,  he  started  off,  saying  that  he  was  expected  at 
lunch  by  Saint-Pavin,  the  financial  editor,  and  by  M.  Jot- 
tras,  of  the  firm  of  Jottras  Brothers. 

A  shrewd  woman  would  not  have  given  in  so  soon,  and, 
in  the  end,  would  easily  have  mastered  the  despot,  whose 
intellect  was  far  from  brilliant.  But  Madame  Favoral  was 
too  proud  to  be  shrewd ;  and  besides,  the  springs  of  her 
will  had  been  broken  by  the  successive  oppression  of  an 
odious  step-mother  and  a  brutal  master.  Her  abdication 
of  all  was  complete.  Wounded,  she  kept  the  secret  of  her 
wound,  hung  her  head,  and  said  nothing.  She  did  not, 
therefore,  venture  a  single  allusion,  and  nearly  a  week 
elapsed,  during  which  the  names  of  her  late  guests  were 
not  once  mentioned.  It  was  through  a  newspaper  which 
M.  Favoral  had  left  in  the  drawing-room,  that  she  learnt 
that  the  Baron  de  Thaller  had  just  founded  a  new  stock 
company,  styled  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank,  with  a  capital  of 
several  millions.  Below  the  advertisement,  which  was 
printed  in  enormous  letters,  came  a  long  article,  in  which 
it  was  demonstrated  that  the  new  company  was,  at  the 
same  time  a  patriotic  undertaking  and  an  institution  of 
credit  of  the  first  class  ;  that  it  supplied  a  great  public 
want ;  that  it  would  be  of  inestimable  benefit  to  industry ; 
that  its  profits  were  assured ;  and  that  to  purchase  shares 
was  simply  to  draw  short  bills  upon  fortune.  Already 
somewhat  reassured  by  the  reading  of  this  article,  Madame 
Favoral  became  quite  so  when  she  read  the  names  of  the 
board  of  directors.  Nearly  all  were  titled,  and  decorated 
with  many  orders  ;  and  the  remainder  were  bankers,  office- 
holders, and  even  some  ex-ministers.  I  must  have  been 
mistaken,"  she  thought,  yielding  unconsciously  to  the  in- 
fluence of  print. 

And  no  objection  occurred  to  her  when,  a  few  days  later 
her  husband  said,  "  I  have  the  situation  I  wanted.  I  am 
head  cashier  of  the  bank  of  which  M.  Thaller  is  manager.'' 
That  was  all.  Of  the  nature  of  this  bank,  of  the  advan- 
tages which  it  offered  him,  not  one  word.  Only  by  the 
way  in  which  he  expressed  himself  did  Madame  Favoral 
judge  that  he  must  have  been  well  treated  ;  and  he  further 


36 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


confirmed  her  in  that  opinion  by  granting  her,  of  his  own 
accord,  a  few  additional  francs  for  the  daily  expenses  of 
the  house.  "  We  must,"  he  declared  on  this  memorable 
occasian,  "  do  honour  to  our  social  position,  whatever  it 
may  cost.''  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  seemed  heed- 
ful of  public  opinion.  He  recommended  his  wife  to  be 
careful  of  her  dress  and  of  that  of  the  children,  and  re- 
engaged a  servant.  He  expressed  the  wish  of  enlarging 
their  circle  of  acquaintances,  and  inaugurated  his  Saturday 
dinners,  to  which  came  assiduously  M.  and  Madame  Des- 
clavettes,  M.  Chapelain  the  attorne}^,  old  Desormeaux,  and 
a  few  others.  As  to  himself,  he  gradually  settled  down 
into  those  habits,  from  which  he  was  nevermore  to  depart, 
and  the  chronometric  regularity  of  which  had  secured  him 
the  nickname  of  Old  Punctuality,  of  which  he  was  proud. 
In  all  other  respects  never  did  a  man,  to  such  a  degree, 
become  so  utterly  indifferent  to  his  wife  and  children. 
His  house  was  for  him  but  a  mere  hotel,  where  he  took  his 
evening  meal  and  slept.  He  never  thought  of  question- 
ing his  wife  as  to  the  use  of  her  time,  and  what  she  did  in 
his  absence.  Provided  she  did  not  ask  him  for  money,  and 
was  the're  when  he  came  home,  he  was  satisfied. 

Many  women  at  Madame's  Favoral's  age,  might  have 
made  a  strange  use  of  that  insulting  indifference  and  of 
that  absolute  freedom.  If  she  did  avail  herself  of  it,  it  was 
solely  to  follow  one  of  those  inspirations  which  can  only 
spring  in  a  mother's  heart.  The  increase  in  the  budget  of 
the  household  was  relatively  large,  but  so  nicely  calcula- 
ted, that  she  had  not  a  centime  more  that  she  could  call 
her  own.  With  the  most  intense  sorrow,  she  thought  that 
her  children  might  have  to  endure  the  humiliating  priva- 
tions which  had  made  her  own  life  wretched.  They  were 
too  young  yet  to  suffer  from  the  paternal  parsimony,  but 
they  would  grow,  their  desires  would  develop,  and  it 
would  be  impossible  for  her  to  grant  them  the  most  inno- 
cent gratifications.  Whilst  turning  over  and  over  in  her 
mind  this  distressing  thought,  she  remembered  a  friend  of 
her  mother's,  who  kept,  in  the  Rue  St.  Denis,  a  large  es- 
tablishment for  the  sale  of  hosiery  and  woollen  goods. 
There,  perhaps,  lay  the  solution  of  the  problem.  She 
called  to  see  the  worthy  woman,  and,  without  even  need- 
ing to  confess  the  whole  truth  to  her,  she  obtained  sundry 
pieces  of  work  to  do,  ill  paid  as  a  matter  of  course,  bul 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


37 


which,  by  dint  of  close  application,  might  be  made  to 
yield  from  eight  to  twelve  francs  a  week.  From  this  time 
she  never  lost  a  minute,  concealing  her  work  as  if  it  were 
an  evil  act.  She  knew  her  husband  well  enough  to  feel 
certain  that  he  would  break  out,  and  swear  that  he  spent 
money  enough  to  enable  his  wife  to  live  without  being  re- 
duced to  making  a  workwoman  of  herself.  But  what  joy, 
the  day  when  she  hid  away  down  at  the  bottom  of  a  drawer 
the  first  twenty-franc-piece  she  had  earned,  a  beautifux 
gold  coin,  which  belonged  to  her  without  contest,  which 
no  one  knew  of,  and  which  she  might  spend  as  she  pleased, 
without  having  to  render  an  account  to  any  one  1  And 
with  what  pride,  from  week  to  week,  she  saw  her  little 
treasure  increase,  despite  the  drafts  she  made  upon  it, 
sometimes  to  buy  a  toy  for  Maxence,  sometimes  to  add  a 
few  ribbons  to  Gilberte's  little  dresses.  This  was  the  hap- 
piest time  of  her  life,  a  halt  on  that  painful  road  along 
which  she  had  been  dragging  herself  for  so  many  3^ears. 
Between  her  two  children,  the  hours  flew  light  and  rapid 
as  so  many  seconds.  If  all  the  hopes  of  the  young  girl, 
and  of  the  wife  had  withered  before  they  had  blossomed, 
the  mother's  joys,  at  least,  should  not  fail  her.  Because, 
whilst  the  present  sufficed,  to  her  modest  ambition,  the 
future  had  ceased  to  caused  her  any  uneasiness. 

No  further  reference  had  ever  been  made,  between  her- 
self and  her  husband,  to  their  guests  of  an  evening ;  he 
never  spoke  to  her  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank,  but  now 
and  then  he  allowed  some  words  or  exclamations  to  escape 
him,  which  she  carefully  recorded,  and  which  betrayed  a 
prosperous  state  of  affairs.  "  That  Thaller  is  a  tough  fel- 
low !  he  would  exclaim,  "  and  he  has  the  most  infernal 
luck  [ "  And  at  other  times,  "  two  or  three  more  opera- 
tions like  the  one  we  have  just  successfully  w^ound  up,  and 
we  can  shut  up  shop  ! From  all  this,  what  could  she 
conclude,  if  not  that  he  was  marching  with  rapid  strides 
towards  that  fortune,  the  object  of  all  his  ambition  ?  Al- 
ready in  the  neighbourhood  he  had  the  reputation  of  be- 
ing very  rich,  which  is  the  beginning  of  riches  itself.  He 
was  admired  for  keeping  his  house  with  such  rigid  econo- 
my ;  for  a  man  is  always  esteemed  who  has  money,  and 
does  not  spend  it.  He  is  not  the  man  ever  to  squander 
what  he  has,"  the  neighbours  repeated  amongst  themselves. 
The  persons  whom  he  received  on  Saturdays  believed  hin; 


38 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


more  than  comfortably  off.  When  M.  Desclavettes  and  JM 
Chapelain  had  complained  to  their  hearts'  contents,  the 
one  of  his  shop,  the  other  of  his  office,  they  never  failed 
to  add,  "  You  laugh  at  our  complaints,  because  you  are 
engaged  in  those  great  transactions,  in  which  people  make 
as  much  money  as  they  like."  They  seemed^ to  hold  his 
financial  capacities  in  high  estimation.  They  consulted 
him,  and  followed  his  advice.  M.  Desormeaux  was  wont 
to  say,  "  Oh  !  he  knows  what  he  is  about.''  And  Madame 
Favoral  persuaded  herself,  that,  in  this  respect  at  least, 
her  husband  was  a  remarkable  man.  She  attributed  his 
constant  silence  and  his  innumerable  distractions  to  the 
grave  cares  that  filled  his  mind.  In  the  same  manner  that 
he  had  once  announced  to  her  that  they  had  enough  to 
live  on,  she  expected  him,  some  fine  morning  to  tell  her 
that  he  was  a  millionaire. 


IX. 

But  the  respite  granted  by  fate  to  Madame  Favoral  was 
drawing  to  an  end  :  her  trials  were  about  to  return  more 
poignant  than  ever,  occasioned,  this  time,  by  her  children, 
hitherto  her  whole  happiness  and  her  only  consolation. 
Maxence  was  nearly  twelve.  He  was  a  good  little  fellow, 
intelligent,  studious  at  times,  but  thoughtless  in  the  ex- 
treme, and  of  a  turbulence  which  nothing  could  tame.  At 
the  school  where  he  had  been  sent,  he  made  his  teacher's 
hair  turn  white ;  and  not  a  week  went  by  that  he  did  not 
signalise  himself  by  some  fresh  misdeed.  A  father  like 
any  other  would  have  paid  but  slight  attention  to  the  pranks 
of  a  schoolboy,  who,  after  all,  ranked  among  the  first  of 
his  class,  and  of  whom  the  teachers  themselves,  whilst 
complaining,  said,  Bah!  What  matters  it,  since  his  heart 
is  good  and  his  mind  sound  ?  '^  But  M.  Favoral  took  every- 
thing tragically.  If  Maxence  was  kept  in,  or  otherwise 
punished,  he  pretended  that  it  reflected  upon  himself,  and 
declared  that  his  son  was  disgracing  him.  If  a  report 
came  home  with  this  remark,  "  execrable  conduct,"  he  fell 
into  the  most  violent  passion,  and  seemed  to  lose  all  control 
of  himself.  "  At  your  age,"  he  would  shout  to  the  terrified 
boy,  "  I  was  working  in  a  factory,  and  earning  my  liveli- 
hood.   Do  you  suppose  that  I  will  not  tire  of  making  saC' 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


39 


rifices  to  procure  you  the  advantages  of  an  education  which 
I  lack  myself  ?  Beware.  Havre  is  not  far  off ;  and  cabin- 
boys  are  always  in  demand  there." 

If,  at  least,  he  had  confined  himself  to  these  admonitions, 
which  by  their  very  exaggeration  failed  in  their  object  ! 
But  he  favoured  mechanical  appliances  as  a  necessary 
means  of  sufficiently  impressing  reprimands  upon  the  minds 
of  young  people  ;  and  therefore,  seizing  his  cane,  he  would 
beat  poor  Maxence  most  unmercifully,  the  more  so  that 
the  boy,  filled  with  pride,  would  have  allowed  himself  to 
be  chopped  to  pieces  rather  than  utter  a  cry,  or  shed  a  tear. 
The  first  time  that  Madame  Favoral  saw  her  son  struck, 
she  was  seized  with  one  of  those  wild  fits  of  anger  which 
do  not  reason,  and  never  forgive.  To  be  beaten  herself 
would  have  seemed  to  her  less  atrocious,  Jess  humiliating. 
Hitherto  she  had  found  it  impossible  to  love  a  husband 
such  as  hers  ;  henceforth,  she  took  him  in  utter  aversion, 
he  inspired  her  with  horror.  She  looked  upon  her  son  as 
a  martyr  for  whom  she  could  hardly  ever  do  enough.  And 
so,  after  these  harrowing  scenes,  she  would  press  him  to 
her  heart  in  the  most  passionate  embrace  ;  she  would  cover 
with  her  kisses  the  traces  of  the  blows  ;  and  she  would 
strive,  by  the  most  delirious  caresses,  to  make  him  forget 
the  paternal  brutalities.  With  him  she  sobbed.  Like  him 
she  would  shake  her  clinched  fists  in  vacant  space,  exclaim- 
ing "  Coward,  tyrant,  brute ! Little  Gilberte  mingled 
her  tears  with  theirs  ;  and,  pressed  against  each  other,  they 
deplored  their  destiny,  cursing  the  common  enemy,  the 
head  of  the  family.  Thus  did  Maxence  spend  his  boyhood 
between  equally  fatal  exaggerations,  between  the  revolting 
brutalities  of  his  father,  and  the  dangerous  caresses  of  his 
mother :  the  one  depriving  him  of  everything,  the  other  re- 
fusing him  nothing.  For  Madame  Favoral  had  now  found 
a  use  for  her  humble  savings.  If  the  idea  had  never  come 
to  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  to  put  a  few  sous 
in  his  son's  pocket,  the  too  weak  mother  would  have  sug- 
gested to  him  the  want  of  money  in  order  to  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  gratifying  it.  She  who  had  suffered  so  many  hu- 
miliations in  her  life,  she  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  her  son" 
having  his  pride  wounded,  and  being  unable  to  indulge  in 
those  little  trifling  expenses  which  are  the  vanity  of  school- 
boys. "  Here,  take  this,"  she  would  say  to  him  on  holidays^ 
slipping  a  few  francs  into  his  hands. 


40 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


Unfortunately,  to  her  present  she  joined  the  recommer^ 
dation  not  to  let  his  father  know  anything  about  it ;  forget- 
ting that  she  was  thus  training  Maxence  to  dissimulate, 
warping  his  natural  sense  of  right,  and  perverting  his  in- 
stincts. No,  she  gave ;  and,  to  repair  the  gaps  thus  made 
in  her  treasure,  she  worked  to  the  point  of  ruining  her  sight, 
with  such  eager  zeal,  that  the  worthy  shop-keeper  of  the 
Rue  St.  Denis  asked  her  if  she  did  not  employ  work-girls. 
In  truth,  the  only  help  she  received  was  from  Gilberte,  who, 
at  the  age  of  eight,  already  knew  how  to  make  herself  use- 
ful. And  this  is  not  all.  For  this  son,  in  anticipation  of 
growing  expenses,  she  stooped  to  expedients  which  for- 
merly would  have  seemed  to  her  unworthy  and  disgraceful. 
She  robbed  the  household,  cheating  on  her  own  marketing. 
She  went  so  far  as  to  confide  in  her  servant,  and  to  make 
the  girl  the  accomplice  of  her  manoeuvres.  She  applied  all 
her  ingenuity  to  serve  to  M.  Favoral  dinners  in  which  the 
excellence  of  the  dressing  concealed  the  want  of  solid  sub- 
stance. And  on  Sunday,  when  she  rendered  her  weekly 
accounts,  it  was  without  a  blush  that  she  increased  by  a 
few  centimes  the  price  of  each  object,  rejoicing  when  she 
had  thus  scraped  a  dozen  francs,  and  finding,  to  justify  her- 
self in  her  own  eyes,  those  sophisms  which  passion  never 
lacks.  At  first  Maxence  was  too  young  to  wonder  from 
what  sources  his  mother  drew  the  money  she  lavished  upon 
his  schoolboy  fancies.  She  asked  him  not  to  let  his  father 
know,  he  took  care  not  to  do  so,  and  thought  it  perfectly 
natural.  As  he  grew  older,  he  learned  to  discern.  The 
moment  came  when  he  opened  his  eyes  upon  the  system 
under  which  the  paternal  household  was  managed.  He 
noticed  there  that  anxious  economy  whicli  seems  to  betray 
want,  and  the  acrimonious  discussions  which  arose  upon 
the  inconsiderate  use  of  a  twenty-franc  piece.  He  saw  his 
mother  realise  miracles  of  industry  to  conceal  the  shabbi- 
ness  of  her  clothes,  and  resort  to  the  most  skilful  diplomacy 
when  she  wished  to  purchase  a  dress  for  Gilberte.  And, 
despite  all  this,  he  had  at  his  disposition  as  much  money 
as  those  of  his  comrades  whose  parents  had  the  reputation 
of  being  the  most  opulent  and  the  most  generous.  Anx- 
ious, he  questioned  his  mother.  What  can  it  matter  to 
you  1  ''^  she  answered,  blushing  and  confused.  "  It  is  noth- 
ing to  worry  about ! And  as  he  still  asked,  Never  you 
mind,"  she  said,  ''we  are  rich."    But  he  could  hardly  be- 


O  THER  PEOPLE'S  MONE  Y. 


41 


lieve  her,  accustomed  as  he  was  to  hear  every  one  talk  of 
poverty,  and,  as  he  fixed  his  great  astonished  eyes  upon  her. 
"  Yes,"  she  resumed,  with  an  inprudence  which,  unfortu- 
nately, was  to  bear  its  fruits,  "  we  are  rich,  and,  if  we  live 
as  we  do,  it  is  because  it  suits  your  father,  who  wishes  to 
amass  a  still  greater  fortune."  This  was  not  exactly  an 
answer,  and  yet  Maxence  asked  no  further  questions.  But 
he  made  inquiries  here  and  there,  with  that  patient  shrewd- 
ness of  young  people  possessed  with  a  fixed  idea. 

Already,  at  this  time,  M.  Favoral  possessed  in  the 
neighbourhood,  and  even  among  his  own  friends,  the 
reputation  of  being  worth  at  least  a  million.  The  Mutual 
Credit  Bank  had  considerably  developed  itself ;  he  must, 
so  every  one  thought,  have  benefited  largely  by  the  cir- 
cumstance, and  the  profits  must  have  swelled  rapidly  in 
the  hands  of  so  able  a  man,  and  one  so  noted  for  his 
rigid  economy.  Such  is  the  substance  of  what  Maxence 
heard  ;  but  his  informants  did  not  fail  to  add  ironically, 
that  he  would  be  wrong  to  rely  upon  the  paternal  fortune 
to  pay  for  his  amusements.  M.  Desormeaux  himself, 
whom  he  had  "pumped"  rather  cleverly,  told  him,  whilst 
patting  him  amicably  on  the  shoulder,  "  If  you  ever 
need  money  for  your  frolics,  young  man,  try  and  earn  it, 
for  I'll  be  hanged  if  it's  the  old  man  who'll  ever  supply 
it."  Such  answers  only  served  to  complicate,  instead  of 
explain,  the  problem  which  occupied  Maxence.  He  ob- 
served, he  watched,  and  at  last  he  acquired  the  certainty 
that  the  money  he  spent  was  the  produce  of  the  joint 
labour  of  his  mother  and  sister.  "  Ah  !  why  not  have 
told  me  so } "  he  exclaimed,  throwing  his  arms  around 
his  mother's  neck.  "  Why  have  exposed  me  to  the  bitter 
regrets  which  I  feel  at  this  moment  ?  "  By  these  words 
alone,  the  poor  woman  found  herself  amply  repaid.  She 
admired  the  nobleness  of  her  son's  feelings  and  the 
kindness  of  his  heart.  "  Do  you  not  understand,"  she 
told  him,  shedding  tears  of  joy,  "  do  you  not  see,  that 
the  labour  which  can  promote  her  son's  pleasure  is  a 
happiness  for  his  mother?  "  But  he  was  dismayed  at  his 
discovery.  "  No  matter  !  "  he  said.  I  swear  that  I 
shall  no  longer  scatter  to  the  winds,  as  I  have  been  doing, 
the  money  that  you  give  me."  For  a  few  weeks,  indeed, 
he  was  faithful  to  his  pledge.  But  at  seventeen  resolu- 
tions are  not  very  stanch.    The  impression  he  had  felt 


42 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


wore  off.  He  became  tired  of  the  small  privations  which 
he  had  to  impose  upon  himself.  He  soon  came  to  take 
to  the  letter  what  his  mother  had  told  him,  and  to 
prove  to  his  own  satisfaction  that  to  deprive  himself  of  a 
pleasure  was  to  deprive  her.  He  asked  for  ten  francs 
one  day,  then  ten  francs  another,  and  gradually  resumed 
his  old  habits.    He  was  at  this  time  about  leaving  school. 

The  moment  has  come,"  said  M.  Favoral,  "for  you  to 
select  a  career,  and  support  yourself." 


X. 

Maxence  Favoral  had  not  waited  for  the  paternal 
warnings  to  think  of  a  profession.  Modern  schoolboys 
are  precocious  :  they  know  the  strong  and  the  weak 
sides  of  life  ;  and,  when  they  study  for  their  degree,  they 
already  have  but  few  illusions  left.  And  how  could  it  be 
otherwise  t  In  the  interior  of  the  colleges  is  fatally  found 
the  echo  of  the  thoughts,  and  the  reflection  of  the  man- 
ners, of  the  time.  Neither  walls  nor  keepers  can  avail. 
With  the  city  mud  that  stains  their  boots,  the  scholars 
bring  back  on  their  return  from  holidays  their  stock  of 
observations  and  of  facts.  And  what  have  they  seen 
during  the  day  in  their  families,  or  among  their  friends  ? 
Ardent  cravings,  insatiable  appetites  for  luxuries,  com- 
forts, enjoyments,  pleasures,  contempt  for  patient  labour, 
scorn  for  austere  convictions,  eager  longing  for  money, 
the  wish  to  become  rich  at  any  cost,  and  the  firm  resolu- 
tion to  ravish  fortune  on  the  first  favourable  occasion. 
To  be  sure,  one  has  dissembled  in  their  presence,  but 
their  perceptions  are  keen.  True,  their  father  has  told 
them  in  a  grave  tone,  that  there  is  nothing  respectable 
in  this  world  except  labour  and  honesty  ;  but  they  have 
caught  that  same  father  scarcely  noticing  a  poor  devil  of 
an  honest  man,  and  bowing  to  the  earth  before  some 
clever  rascal  bearing  the  stigma  of  three  condemnations, 
but  worth  six  millions.  Conclusion  ?  Oh !  they  know 
very  well  how  to  draw  a  conclusion,  for  there  are  none 
such  as  young  people  to  be  logical  and  to  deduce  the 
utmost  consequences  of  a  fact.  They  know,  most  of 
them,  that  they  will  have  to  do  something  or  other,  but 
what  ?    And  it  is  then,  that,  during  the  recreations,  their 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


43 


imagination  strives  to  find  that  hitherto  unknown  profes- 
sion  which  is  to  give  them  fortune  without  work,  and 
freedom  at  the  same  time  as  a  brilUant  situation.  They 
discuss  and  critcise  freely  all  the  careers  which  are  open  to 
youthful  ambition.  And  how  they  laugh,  if  some  simple 
fellow  ventures  upon  suggesting  one  of  those  modest 
situations  where  a  man  can  earn  one  hundred  and  fifty 
francs  a  month  to  begin  with  !  One  hundred  and  fifty 
francs  ! — why,  it's  hardly  as  much  as  many  a  boy  spends 
for  his  cigars,  and  his  cab-fares  when  he  is  late. 

Maxence  was  neither  better  nor  worse  than  the  rest. 
Like  the  others  he  strove  to  discover  the  ideal  profession 
which  makes  a  man  rich,  and  amuses  him  at  the  same 
time.  Under  the  pretext  that  he  drew  very  well,  he 
talked  of  becoming  a  painter,  calculating  coolly  what 
painting  may  yield,  and  reckoning,  according  to  some 
newspaper,  the  earnings  of  a  few  of  the  most  celebrated 
painters,  who  are  at  last  reaping  the  fruits  of  unceasing 
efforts  and  crushing  labours.  But  in  the  way  of  pictures, 
M.  Vincent  Favoral  appreciated  only  the  blue  vignettes 
of  the  Bank  of  France.  "  I  don't  want  any  artist  in  my 
family,"  he  said  in  a  tone  that  admitted  of  no  reply. 
Maxence  would  willingly  have  become  an  engineer,  for 
it^s  rather  the  style  to  be  an  engineer  now-a-days;  but 
the  examinations  for  the  Polytechnic  School  are  rather 
difficult.  Or  else  a  cavalry  officer ;  but  the  two  years  at 
Saint  Cyr  are  not  very  gay.  Or  head  of  department, 
like  M.  Desormeaux ;  but  he  would  have  to  begin  by 
being  supernumerary.  Finally,  after  hesitating  for  a  long 
time  between  law  and  medicine,  he  made  up  his  mind  to 
become  a  barrister,  influenced,  above  all,  by  the  joyous 
legends  related  of  the  students.  That  was  not  exactly 
M.  Vincent  Favoral's  dream.  "That's  going  to  cost 
money  again,"  he  growled.  The  fact  is,  he  had  indulged 
the  fallacious  hope  that  his  son,  as  soon  as  he  left  college, 
would  enter  at  once  some  business-house,  where  he 
would  earn  enough  money  to  keep  himself.  He  yielded 
at  last,  however,  to  the  persistent  entreaties  of  his  wife, 
and  the  solicitations  of  his  friends.  "  Be  it  so,"  he  said 
to  Maxence;  "you  shall  study  law.  Only,  as  it  does 
not  suit  me  that  you  should  waste  your  time  lounging  in 
cafes,  you  shall  at  the  same  time  work  in  an  attorney's 
office.    By  next  Saturday  I  will  arrange  the  matter  with 


4^ 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


my  friend  Chapelain."  Maxence  had  not  bargained  for 
this  ;  and  he  came  near  backing  out  at  the  prospect  of 
a  discipline  which  he  foresaw  must  be  as  exacting  as  that 
of  the  college.  Still,  as  he  could  think  of  nothing  better, 
he  persevered.  And,  vacations  over,  he  was  duly  entered 
at  the  law-school,  and  settled  at  a  desk  in  M.  Chapelain's 
office,  which  was  then  in  the  Rue  St.  Antoine. 

The  first  year  everything  went  on  tolerably.  He  en- 
joyed as  much  freedom  as  he  cared  to.  His  father  did 
not  allow  him  one  centime  for  his  pocket-money ;  but 
the  attorney,  in  his  capacity  of  an  old  friend  of  the 
family,  did  for  him  what  he  had  never  done  before  for  an 
amateur  clerk,  and  allowed  him  twenty  francs  a  month. 
Madame  Favoral  adding  to  this  a  few  five  franc-pieces 
Maxence  declared  himself  entirely  satisfied.  Unfortunately, 
with  his  lively  imagination  and  his  impetuous  temper,  no  one 
was  less  fit  than  himself  for  that  peaceful  existence,  that 
steady  toil,  the  same  each  day,  without  the  stimulus  of  diffi- 
culties to  overcome,  or  the  satisfaction  of  results  obtained. 
Before  long  he  became  tired  of  it.  He  had  found  at  the 
law-school  a  number  of  his  old  schoolmates  whose  parents 
resided  in  the  provinces,  and  who,  consequently,  lived  as 
they  pleased,  less  assiduous  to  the  lectures  than  to  the 
cafes  and  the  ball  of  the  Closerie  des  Lilas.  He  -envied 
them  their  joyous  life,  their  freedom  without  control, 
their  facile  pleasures,  their  furnished  rooms,  and  even 
the  low  eating-house  where  they  took  on  credit  whatever 
they  could  get,  reserving  the  amount  allowed  them  for 
their  board  for  their  amusements  which  had  to  be  paid  for 
in  cash.  But  was  not  Madame  Favoral  there  ?  She  had 
worked  so  much,  poor  woman,  especially  since  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte  had  become  almost  a  young  lady  ;  she  had  saved 
so  much,  stinted  so  much,  that  her  reserve,  notwithstand- 
ing repeated  drafts,  amounted  to  a  good  round  sum. 
When  Maxence  wanted  two  or  three  twenty-franc  pieces, 
he  had  but  a  word  to  say  ;  and  he  said  it  often."  Thus, 
after  a  while,  he  became  an  excellent  billiard-player ;  he 
kept  his  coloured  meerschaum  in  the  rack  of  a  popular 
cafe  ;  he  took  absinthe  before  dinner,  and  spent  his 
evenings  in  the  laudable  effort  to  ascertain  how  many 
glasses  of  beer  he  could  put  away."  Gaining  in  audacity, 
he  danced  at  Bullier's,  dined  in  private  rooms  at  Foyot's^ 
and  at  last  had  a  mistress. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


45 


So  much  so,  that  one  afternoon,  M.  Favoral  having  to 
make  a  call  in  the  students'  quarter,  found  himself  face 
to  face  with  his  son,  who  was  strolling  along,  a  cigar 
in  his  mouth,  and  on  his  arm  a  young  lady,  painted  in  su- 
perior style,  and  harnessed  in  a  costume  calculated  to 
make  the  cab-horses  rear.  He  returned  to  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles  in  a  state  of  indescribable  rage.  "  A  woman  !  "  ho 
exclaimed  in  a  tone  of  offended  modesty.  A  bad 
woman  ! — he  !  my  son  !  And  when  that  son  made  his 
appearance,  looking  very  sheepish,  M.  Favoral's  first  im- 
pulse was  to  resort  to  his  former  mode  of  correction.  But 
Maxence  was  now  over  nineteen  years  of  age.  At  the 
sight  of  the  uplifted  cane,  he  became  whiter  than  his  shirt ; 
and,  wrenching  it  from  his  father's  hands,  he  broke  it  across 
his  knee,  threw  the  pieces  violently  upon  the  floor,  and 
rushed  out  of  the  house.  He  shall  never  again  set  his 
foot  here  !  "  screamed  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit 
Bank,  thrown  into  a  great  passion  by  an  act  of  resistance 
which  seemed  to  him  unheard  of.  "  I  discard  him.  Let 
his  clothes  be  packed  up,  and  taken  to  some  hotel.  I 
never  wish  to  see  him  :  .gain.'' 

For  a  long  time  Madame  Favoral  and  Gilberte  fairly 
dragged  themselves  at  his  feet,  before  he  consented  to  re- 
call his  determination.  **He  will  disgrace  us  all !  "  he 
kept  repeating,  seeming  unable  to  understand  that  it  was 
himself  who  had,  as  it  were,  driven  Maxence  on  to  the  fatal 
road  which  he  was  pursuing,  forgetting  that  the  absurd  se- 
verity of  the  father  prepared  the  way  for  the  perilous  in- 
dulgence of  the  mother,  unwilling  to  own  that  the  head  of 
a  family  has  other  duties  besides  providing  food  and  shel- 
ter for  his  wife  and  children,  and  that  a  father  has  but 
little  right  to  complain  w^ho  has  not  known  how  to  make 
himself  the  friend  and  adviser  of  his  son.  At  last,  after 
the  most  violent  recriminations,  he  forgave,  in  appearance 
at  least.  But  the  scales  had  dropped  from  his  eyes.  He 
started  in  quest  of  information,  and  received  some  very 
bad  reports.  He  learnt  from  M.  Chapelain  whom  he 
adroitly  questioned,  that  Maxence  remained  whole  weeks 
at  a  time  without  appearing  at  the  office.  If  he  had  not 
complained  before,  it  was  because  he  had  yielded  to  the 
urgent  entreaties  of  Madame  Favoral ;  and  he  was  now 
glad,  he  added,  of  an  opportunity  to  relieve  his  conscience 
by  a  full  confession.    Thus  the  cashier  discovered,  one  by 


J^6  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 

one,  all  his  son's  tricks.  He  heard  that  he  was  almost  un> 
known  at  the  law-school,  that  he  spent  his  days  in  the 
cafes,  and  that,  in  the  evening,  when  he  believed  him  in 
bed  and  asleep,  he  was  in  fact  running  out  to  theatres  and 
balls.  "  Ah  !  that's  the  way,  is  it  ?  "  he  thought.  "  Ah, 
my  wife  and  children  are  in  league  against  me,  the  master ! 
Very  well,  we  shall  see  ! 


XI. 

From  that  moment,  war  was  declared.  jFrom  that  day 
commenced  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  one  of  those  domestic 
dramas  which  are  still  awaiting  their  Moliere, — dramas 
of  distressing  vulgarity  and  sickening  realism,  but  poignant, 
nevertheless,  for  they  bring  into  action  tears,  blood,  and  a 
savage  energy.  M.  Favoral  thought  himself  certain  to  win. 
For  did  he  not  keep  the  key  of  the  cash-box  t  And  he 
who  holds  that  key  is  assured  of  the  victory,  in  an  age 
where  everything  ends  by  money.  Nevertheless,  he  was 
filled  with  irritating  anxieties.  He  who  had  just  discov- 
ered so  many  things  which  he  did  not  even  suspect  a  few 
days  before,  he  could  not  discover  the  source  whence  his 
son  drew  the  money  which  flowed  like  water  from  his 
prodigal  hands.  He  had  ascertaimed  that  Maxence  had 
no  debts,  and  yet  it  could  not  be  with  M.  Chapelain's 
monthly  allowence  of  twenty  francs  that  he  fed  his 
frolics. 

Madame  Favoral  and  Gilberte,  subjected  separately  to 
a  skilful  interrogatory,  had  managed  to  keep  inviolate  the 
secret  of  their  mercenary  labour.  The  servant,  shrewdly 
questioned,  had  said  nothing  that  could  in  any  way  cause 
the  truth  to  be  suspected.  Here  was,  then,  a  mystery  ; 
and  M.  Favoral's  constant  anxiety  could  be  read  upon  his 
knitted  brows  during  his  brief  appearances  in  the  house, 
that  is,  during  dinner.  From  the  manner  in  which  he  took 
his  soup,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  he  was  asking  himself 
whether  it  was  real  soup,  or  whether  he  was  not  being  im* 
posed  upon.  From  the  expression  of  his  eyes,  it  was  easy 
to  guess  this  question  constantly  present  to  his  mind : 
"  They  are  robbing  me  evidently  ;  but  how  do  they  do  it  ?  " 
And  he  became  distrustful,  fussy,  and  suspicious,  to  an  ex- 
tent that  he  had  never  been  before.    It  was  with  the  most 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


47 


insulting  precautions  that  he  examined  every  Sunday  his 
wife's  accounts.  He  insisted  on  having  an  account  at  the 
grocer's,  and  settled  it  himself  once  a  month  ;  he  had 
every  butcher's  ticket  shovv^n  him.  He  would  inquire  the 
price  of  an  apple  as  he  peeled  it  over  his  plate,  and  never 
failed  to  stop  at  the  fruiterer's,  to  make  sure  that  he  had 
not  been  deceived.  But  it  v/as  all  in  vain.  And  yet  he 
knew  that  Maxence  always  had  two  or  three  five-franc- 
pieces  in  his  pocket.  "  Where  do  you  steal  them  from  ?  " 
he  asked  him  one  day.  "I  save  them  out  of  my  salary," 
boldly  answered  the  young  man. 

Exasperated,  M.  Favoral  wished  to  make  the  whole 
world  take  an  interest  in  his  investigations.  And  one 
Saturday  evening,  as  he  was  talking  with  his  friends,  M. 
Chapelain,  the  worthy  Desclavettes,  and  old  Desormeaux, 
he  said,  pointing  to  his  wife  and  daughter  :— "  Those  d — d 
women  rob  me  for  the  benefit  of  my  son  ;  and  they  do  it 
so  cleverly  that  I  can't  find  out  how  !  They  have  an  un- 
derstanding with  the  shop-keepers  who  are  but  licensed 
thieves  :  and  nothing  is  eaten  here  but  that  for  which  they 
make  me  pay  double  the  value." 

M.  Chapelain  made  an  ill-concealed  grimace ;  whilst  M. 
Desclavettes  sincerely  admired  a  man  who  had  at  least 
courage  enough  to  confess  his  meanness.  But  M.  Desor- 
meaux never  minced  matters.  "  Do  you  know,  friend  Vin- 
cent," he  observed,  "  that  it  requires  a  strong  stomach  to 
dine  with  a  man  who  passes  his  time  calculating  the  cost 
of  every  mouthful  that  his  guests  swallow  ?  " 

M.  Favoral  turned  red  in  the  face.  "  It  is  not  the  ex- 
pense that  I  deplore,"  he  replied,  *^but  the  duplicity.  I 
am  rich  enough,  thank  Heaven  !  not  to  begrudge  a  few 
francs  ;  and  I  would  gladly  give  my  wife  twice  as  much  as 
she  takes,  if  she  would  only  ask  it  frankly.'^ 

But  that  was  a  lesson.  Hereafter  he  was  careful  to  dis- 
simulate, and  seemed  exclusively  occupied  in  subjecting 
his  son  to  a  system  of  his  ;  invention,  the  excessive  rigour 
of  which  would  have  upset  the  coolest  hand.  He  required 
him  daily  to  furnish  written  attestations  of  his  attendance 
both  at  the  law-school  and  at  the  lawyer's  ofBce.  He 
marked  out  the  itinerary  of  his  walks  for  him,  and  calcu- 
lated the  time  they  required,  within  a  few  minutes.  Im- 
mediately after  dinner  he  shut  him  up  in  his  room,  under 
lock  and  key,  and  never  failed,  when  he  came  home  at  ten 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


o'clock,  to  make  sure  of  his  presence.  He  could  nol 
have  taken  steps  better  calculated  to  exalt  still  more 
Madanie  Favoral's  blind  tend-erness.  When  she  heard 
that  Maxence  had  a  mistress,  she  received  a  great  shock 
to  her  most  cherished  feelings.  It  is  never  without  a 
secret  jealousy  that  a  mother  discovers  that  a  woman  has 
robbed  her  of  her  son's  heart.  She  had  retained  a  certain 
amount  of  ill-feeling  against  him  on  account  of  a  disso- 
luteness, which,  in  her  candour,  she  nad  never  suspected. 
She  forgave  him  everything  when  she  saw^  the  treatment 
he  received.  She  encouraged  him,  believing  him  to  be 
the  victim  of  a  most  unjust  persecution.  In  the  evening, 
after  her  husband  had  gone  out,  Gilberte  and  herself 
would  take  their  sewing,  sit  in  the  passage  outside  his 
room,  and  converse  with  him  through  the  door.  Never 
had  they  worked  so  hard  for  the  shop-keeper  in  the  Rue 
St.  Denis.  Some  weeks  they  earned  as  much  as  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  francs.  Maxence's  patience,  however,  was 
exhausted  ;  and  one  morning  he  resolutely  declared  that 
he  would  no  longer  attend  the  lectures  of  the  law-school, 
that  he  had  been  mistaken  in  his  vocation,  and  that 
there  was  no  human  power  capable  to  make  him  return  to 
M.  Chapelain's. 

"  And  where  will  you  go  ?  "  exclaimed  his  father.  Do 
you  expect  me  eternally  to  supply  your  wants  ? 

He  answered  that  it  was  precisely  in  order  to  support 
himself,  and  conquer  his  independence,  that  he  had  re- 
solved to  abandon  a  profession,  which,  after  two  years, 
yielded  him  only  twenty  francs  a  month.  "  I  want  some 
business  where  I  have  a  chance  to  get  rich,''  he  continued. 
"  I  would  like  to  enter  a  banking-house,  or  some  great 
financial  establishment." 

Madame  Favoral  jumped  at  the  idea.  Why  not,"  she 
said  to  her  husband,  "  why  not  find  a  place  for  our  son  at 
the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  ?  There  he  would  be  under  your 
own  eyes.  Intelligent  as  he  is,  backed  by  M.  de  Thaller 
and  yourself,  he  would  soon  earn  a  good  salary.'^ 

M.  Favoral  knit  his  brows.  "  That  I  will  never  do," 
said  he.  "  I  have  not  sufficient  confidence  in  my  son.  I 
will  not  run  the  risk  of  his  compromising  the  consideration 
which  I  have  acquired  for  myself."  And,  revealing  to  a 
certain  extent  the  secret  of  his  position,  he  added,  "  A 
cashier,  who  like  me  handles  immense  sums,  cannot  be  too 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


49 


careful  of  his  reputation.  Confidence  is  a  delicate  thing 
in  these  times,  when  there  are  so  many  cashiers  constantly 
on  the  road  to  Belgium.  Who  knows  what  would  be 
thought  of  me,  if  I  was  known  to  have  such  a  son  as 
mine  ? 

Madame  Favoral  was  insisting,  nevertheless,  when  he 
interrupted  her  sharply,  saying,  "  Enough  !  Maxence  is 
free.  I  allow  him  two  years  to  establish  himself  in  some 
position.  That  delay  over,  good-bye  ;  he  can  go  and  find 
board  and  lodging  where  he  pleases.  That's  all.  I  don't 
want  to  hear  anything  more  about  it." 

It  was  with  a  sort  of  frenzy  that  Maxence  abused  that 
freedom  ;  and  in  less  than  two  weeks  he  had  dissipated 
what  his  mother  and  sister  had  taken  three  months  to 
earn;  At  the  end  of  that  time,  he  succeeded,  thanks  to 
M.  Chapelain,  in  obtaining  employment  at  an  architect's. 
This  was  not  a  very  brilliant  opening  ;  and  the  probability 
was,  that  he  would  remain  a  clerk  all  his  life.  But  the 
future  did  not  trouble  him  much.  For  the  present,  he 
was  delighted  with  this  inferior  position,  which  assured 
him  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  francs  a  month.  One 
hundred  and  seventy-five  francs  !  A  fortune  !  And  so  he 
rushed  into  that  life  of  questionable  pleasures,  where  so 
many  wretches  have  left  not  only  the  money  which  was 
theirs,  which  does  not  matter,  but  the  money  which  was 
not  theirs,  and  that  leads  straight  to  the  police-court.  He 
made  friends  with  those  shabby  fellows  who  walk  up  and 
down  in  front  of  the  Cafe  Riche,  with  an  empty  stomach, 
and  a  tooth-pick  between  their  teeth.  He  became  a  reg- 
ular customer  at  those  low  cafes  of  the  Boulevards,  where 
plastered  girls  smile  at  the  passers-by.  He  frequented 
those  suspicious  dining-rooms  where  baccarat  is  played 
after  dinner  on  a  wine-stained  table-cloth,  and  where  the 
police  make  periodical  raids.  He  indulged  in  suppers  in 
those  night  restaurants  where  people  throw  the  bottles  at 
each  other's  heads  after  drinking  the  contents.  Often  he 
remained  twenty-four  hours  without  coming  to  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles  ;  and  then  Madame  Favoral  spent  the  night  in  the 
most  fearful  anxiety.  Suddenly,  at  some  hour  when  he 
knew  his  father  to  be  absent,  he  would  appear,  and,  taking 
his  mother  aside,  say  in  a  sheepish  tone,  I  very  much 
Want  a  little  money." 

She  gave  it  to  him  ;  and  she  kept  gi*^ing  it  so  lon^  as 
4 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


she  had  any,  not,  however,  without  observing  timidly  to 
him  that  Gilberte  and  herself  earned  very  little.  Until 
finally  one  evening,  and  to  a  fresh  demand,  she  answered 
sorrowfully,  Alas  !  I  have  nothing  left,  and  it  is  only  on 
Monday  that  we  are  to  take  our  work  back.  Couldn't  you 
wait  until  then  ? 

He  could  not  w^ait ;  he  was  expected  by  some  friends. 
Blind  devotion  begets  ferocious  egotism.  He  wanted  his 
mother  to  go  out  and  borrow  the  money  from  one  of  the 
tradespeople.  She  was  hesitating.  He  spoke  louder. 
Then  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  appeared.  Have  you  really 
no  heart  ?  "  she  said.  "  It  seems  to  me,  that,  if  I  were  a 
man,  I  would  not  ask  my  mother  and  sister  to  work  for 
me  !  " 

XIL 

Gilberte  Favoral  had  just  completed  her  eighteenth 
year.  Rather  tall  and  slender,  her  every  motion  betrayed 
the  admirable  proportions  of  her  figure,  and  had  that  grace 
which  results  from  the  harmonious  blending  of  litheness 
and  strength.  She  did  not  strike  one  at  first  sight,  but 
soon  a  penetrating  and  indefinable  charm  arose  from  her 
whole  person  ;  and  one  knew  not  which  to  admire  most, — 
the  exquisite  perfections  of  her  figure,  the  divine  roundness 
of  her  neck,  her  aerial  carriage,  or  the  placid  ingenuous- 
ness of  her  attitudes.  She  could  not  be  called  beautiful, 
inasmuch  as  her  features  lacked  regularity ;  but  the  ex- 
treme mobility  of  her  countenance,  upon  which  could  be 
read  all  the  emotions  of  her  soul,  had  an  irresistible  seduc- 
tion. Her  large  eyes,  of  velvety  blue,  had  untold  depths 
and  an  incredible  intensity  of  expression  ;  the  almost  im- 
perceptible quiver  of  her  rosy  nostrils  revealed  an  untam- 
able pride  ;  and  the  smile  that  played  upon  her  lips  told 
her  immense  contempt  for  everything  petty  and  mean. 
But  her  real  beauty  was  her  hair,  of  a  blonde  so  luminous 
that  it  seemed  powdered  with  diamond-dust ;  so  thick  and 
so  long,  that,  to  be  able  to  twist  and  confine  it,  she  had  to 
cut  off  heavy  locks  of  it  to  the  very  root.  She,  alone  in 
the  house,  did  not  tremble  at  her  father's  voice.  The 
studied  despotism  which  had  subdued  Madame  Favoral 
made  her  daughter  revolt,  and  her  energy  had  become 
tempered  under  the  same  system  of  oppression  which  had 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


unnerved  Maxence.  Whilst  her  mother  and  her  brother 
lied  with  that  quiet  impudence  of  the  slave,  whose  sole 
weapon  is  duplicity,  Gilberte  preserved  a  sullen  silence. 
And  if  complicity  was  imposed  upon  her  by  circumstances, 
if  she  had  to  maintain  a  falsehood,  each  word  cost  her  such 
a  painful  effort,  that  her  features  became  quite  distorted. 
Never,  when  her  own  interests  alone  were  at  stake,  had 
she  stooped  to  an  untruth.  Fearlessly,  and  whatever 
might  be  the  result,  she  would  say,  "  That  is  the  fact." 

Knowing  this,  M.  Favoral  could  not  help  respecting  her 
to  a  degree ;  and,  when  he  was  in  a  good  humour,  he 
would  call  her  the  Empress  Gilberte.  For  her  alone  he 
had  some  deference  and  some  politeness.  When  she 
looked  at  him,  he  moderated  the  brutality  of  his  language, 
and  every  Saturday  he  brought  her  a  few  flowers.  He  had 
even  allowed  her  a  professor  of  music,  though  he  was 
wont  to  declare  that  a  woman  needs  but  two  accomplish- 
ments,— to  cook  and  to  sew.  But  she  had  insisted  so 
much,  that  he  had  at  last  discovered  for  her,  in  an  attic  of 
the  Rue  du  Pas-de-la-Mule,  an  old  Italian  master,  Signor 
Gismondo  Pulci,  a  sort  of  unknown  genius,  to  whom 
thirty  francs  a  month  were  a  fortune,  and  who  conceived  a 
sort  of  religious  fanaticism  for  his  pupil.  Though  he  had 
always  refused  to  write  a  note,  he  consented,  for  her  sake, 
to  fix  the  melodies  that  buzzed  in  his  cracked  brain ;  and 
some  of  them  were  admirable.  He  dreamed  of  compos- 
ing an  opera  for  her  that  would  transmit  the  name  of  Gis- 
mondo Pulci  to  the  most  remote  generations.  "  The  Sig- 
norina  Gilberte  is  the  very  goddess  of  music,"  he  said  to  M. 
Favoral,  with  transports  of  enthusiasm,  which  intensified 
still  more  his  frightful  accent.  The  head  cashier  of  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank  shrugged  his  shoulders,  answering 
that  there  is  no  harmony  for  a  man  who  spends  his  days 
listening  to  the  exciting  music  of  golden  coins.  In  spite  of 
which,  his  vanity  seemed  highly  gratified,  when  on  Satur- 
day evenings,  after  dinner.  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  sat  at 
the  piano,  and  Madame  Desclavettes,  suppressing  a  yawn, 
would  exclaim, — "  What  remarkable  talent  the  dear  child 
has  ! " 

The  young  girl  had,  then,  a  positive  influence ;  and 
it  was  to  her  entreaties  alone,  and  not  to  those  of  his  wife, 
that  he  had  several  times  forgiven  Maxence.  He  woifid 
have  done  much  more  for  her,  had  she  wished  it ;  but  she 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


would  have  been  compelled  to  ask  and  to  insist,  or  to  beg. 
*'And  it's  humiliating,"  she  used  to  say.  Sometimes 
Madame  Favoral  scolded  her  gently,  saying  that  her  father 
would  certainly  not  refuse  her  one  of  those  pretty  dresses 
which  are  the  ambition  and  the  joy  of  young  girls.  But 
she  would  reply,—''  It  is  much  less  mortification  to  me 
to  wear  what  I  do  than  to  meet  with  a  refusal,  my  dresses 
please  me  as  they  are." 

With  such  a  character,  surrounded,  however,  by  a  meek 
resignation,  and  an  unalterable  composure,  she  inspired  a 
certain  resjoect  to  both  her  mother  and  her  brother,  who  ad- 
mired in  her  an  energy  of  which  they  felt  themselves  in- 
capable. And  when  she  appeared,  and  commenced 
reproaching  him  in  ^  an  indignant  tone  of  voice,  with  the 
baseness  of  his  conduct,  and  his  insatiate  demands,  Max- 
ence  felt  quite  ashamed. 

"  I  did  not  know,"  he  commenced,  turning  as  red  as 
fire. 

She  crushed  him  with  a  look  of  mingled  contempt  and 
pity  ;  and,  in  an  accent  of  haughty  irony,  she  said,  ''In- 
deed, you  do  not  know  whence  the  money  comes  that  you 
exto?rt  from  our  mother  ? "  And  holding  up  her  hands 
still  remarkably  handsome,  though  slightly  deformed  by  the 
work  she  did  ;  the  fourth  finger  of  the  right  hand  bent  by 
the  thread,  and  the  fore-finger  of  the  left  tatooed  and  lac- 
erated by  the  needle.  "Indeed,"  she  repeated,  "you  do 
not  know  that  my  mother  and  myself,  we  spend  all  oui 
days,  and  the  greater  part  of  our  nights,  working ! 
Hanging  his  head,  he  said  nothing.  "  If  it  were  for  my- 
self alone,"  she  continued,  "I  would  not  speak  to  you  thus. 
But  look  at  our  mother !  See  her  poor  eyes,  red  and 
weak  from  constant  labour  !  If  I  have  said  nothing  until 
now,  it  is  because  I  did  not  as  yet  despair  of  your  heart ; 
because  I  hoped  that  you  would  recover  some  feeling  of 
decency.  But  no,  nothing.  With  time,  your  last  scruples 
seem  to  have  vanished.  You  used  formerly  to  beg  hum- 
bly ;  now  you  demand  rudely.  How  soon  will  you  resort 
to  blows  ? " 

"  Gilberte  !  "  stammered  the  poor  fellow,  '*  Gilberte  !  " 

"  Money  !  she  went  on,  "  always,  and  without  a  mo- 
ment's respite,  you  want  money  ;  no  matter  whence  it  comes, 
nor  what  it  costs.  If,  at  least,  you  hcd,  to  justify  your  ex- 
penses, the  excuse  of  some  great  passion  ;  or  of  some  ob- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


ject  in  view,  even  were  it  absurd,  ardently  pursued  !  But  I 
defy  you  to  confess  upon  what  degrading  pleasures  you  lav- 
ish our  humble  economies.  I  defy  you  to  tell  us  what  you 
mean  to  do  with  the  money  that  you  demand  to-night, — 
that  money  for  which  you  would  have  our  mother  stoop  to 
beg  the  assistance  of  a  shop-keeper,  to  whom  she  would  be 
compelled  to  reveal  the  secret  of  our  misery !  " 

Madame  Favoral,  touched  by  the  frightful  humiliation 
of  her  son,  timidly  murmured  : — "  He  is  so  unhappy  !  " 

"  He  unhappy  !  "  exclaimed  Gilberte.  "  What,  then, 
shall  we  say  of  us  ?  and,  above  all,  what  shall  you  say  of 
yourself,  mother  ?  Unhappy  ?  he,  a  man,  who  has  liberty 
and  strength,  to  whom  the  world  is  open,  who  may  under- 
take everything,  attempt  everything,  dare  everything.  Ah, 
how  I  wish  I  were  a  man !  I  would  be  a  man  like  there 
are  a  few,  and  I  would  have  protected  you,  my  dear  mother, 
long,  long  ago,  against  my  father  ;  and  I  would  have  be- 
gun to  repay  you  all  you  have  done  for  me." 

Madame  Favoral  was  sobbing.  I  beg  of  you,"  she 
murmured,  "  spare  him." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  the  young  girl.  "  But  you  must  allow 
me  to  tell  him  that  it  is  not  for  his  sake  that  I  devote  my 
youth  to  a  mercenary  labour.  It  is  for  you,  darling  mother, 
that  you  may  have  the  joy  to  give  him  what  he  asks,  since 
it  is  your  only  joy." 

Maxence  shuddered  under  the  breath  of  that  great 
indignation.  He  felt  that  he  deserved  only  too  much  that 
frightful  humiliation.  He  understood  the  justice  of  those 
cruel  reproaches.  And,  as  his  heart  had  not  yet  been 
spoiled  by  the  contact  of  his  boon  companions  ;  as  he  was 
weak,  rather  than  wicked  ;  as  the  sentiments  which  are  the 
honour  and  pride  of  a  man  were  not  yet  dead  within  him 
he  exclaimed  : — "  Ah  !  you  are  a  brave  sister,  Gilberte,  and 
what  you  have  just  done  is  well.  You  have  been  harsh^ 
but  not  so  much  as  I  deserve.  Thanks  for  your  courage, 
which  will  give  me  back  mine.  Yes,  it  is  a  shame  for  me 
to  have  thus  cowardly  taken  advantage  of  you  both." 
And,  raising  his  mother's  hand  to  his  lips,  he  continued, 
his  eyes  overflowing  with  tears,  "  Forgive,  mother,  forgive 
him  who  swears  to  you  to  redeem  his  past,  and  to  become 
your  support,  instead  of  being  a  crushing  burden  to  you. 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  sound  of  footsteps  on  the 
stairs,  and  some  one  whistling. 


54 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  My  husband  !  "  exclaimed  Madame  Favoral, — "  your 
father,  my  children  ! 

"  Well,  and  what  then  ?  "  said  Mademoiselle  Gilberte 
coolly. 

Don't  you  hear  that  he  is  whistling  ?  and  do  you  for- 
get that  it  is  a  proof  that  he  is  furious  ?  What  new  trial 
threatens  us  now  ?  " 

XIIL 

Madame  Iavoral  spoke  from  experience.  She  had 
learned,  to  her  cost,  that  the  whistle  of  her  husband,  more 
surely  than  the  shriek  of  the  stormy  petrel,  announced  a 
storm.  And  she  had  that  evening  more  reasons  than 
usual  to  fear.  Contrary  to  all  his  habits,  M.  Favoral  had 
not  come  home  to  dinner,  and  had  sent  one  of  the  messen- 
gers of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  to  say  that  they  should 
not  wait  for  him.  Soon  his  latch-key  grated  in  the  lock  ; 
the  door  swung  open  ;  he  came  in  ;  and,  seeing  his  son, 
"  Well,  I  am  glad  to  find  you  hea«2i^'  he  exclaimed  with 
a  giggle,  which  with  him  was  the  utmost  expression  of 
anger. 

Madame  Favoral  shuddered.  Still  under  the  impression 
of  the  scene  which  had  just  taken  place,  his  heart  heavy, 
and  his  eyes  full  of  tears,  Maxence  did  not  answer. 

"It  is  doubtless  a  wager,"  resumed  the  father,  "  and  you 
wish  to  know  how  far  my  patience  will  go." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  stammered  the  young 
man. 

"  The  money  that  you  used  to  get,  I  know  not  where, 
doubtless  fails  you  now,  or  at  least  is  no  longer  sufficient, 
and  you  go  on  making  debts  right  and  left, — at  the  tailor's, 
the  shirt-maker's,  the  jeweller's — Of  course,  it's  simple 
enough !  We  earn  nothing ;  but  we  wish  to  dress  in  the 
latest  style,  to  wear  a  gold  chain  across  our  waistcoat,  and 
then  we  make  dupes — " 

"  I  have  never  made  any  dupes,  father." 

"  Bah  !  And  what,  then,  do  you  call  all  these  people 
who  came  this  very  day  to  present  their  bills  to  me  t  Foi 
they  did  dare  to  come  to  the  bank,  to  my  office  !  They 
had  agreed  to  come  together,  expecting  thus  to  intimidate 
me  more  easily.  I  told  them  that  you  were  of  age,  and 
that  your  business  was  none  of  mine.     Hearing  this  they 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


55 


became  insolent,  and  commenced  speaking  so  loud,  that 
their  voices  could  be  heard  in  the  adjoining  rooms.  At 
that  very  moment,  the  manager,  M.  de  Thaller,  happened 
to  be  passing  through  the  hall.  Hearing  the  noise  of  a 
discussion,  he  thought  that  I  was  having  some  difficulty 
with  some  one  of  our  shareholders,  and  he  came  in,  as  he 
had  a  right  to.  Then  I  was  compelled  to  confess  every- 
thing.'' He  became  excited  at  the  sound  of  his  words, 
like  a  horse  at  the  jingle  of  his  bells.  And,  more  and 
more  beside  himself,  he  continued: — " That  is  just  what 
your  creditors  wished.  They  thought  I  would  be  afraid  of 
a  row,  and  that  I  would  pay  up.  It  is  a  system  of  black- 
mailing, like  many  others,  and  very  much  in  vogue  just 
now.  An  account  is  opened  to  some  young  rascal ;  and 
when  the  amount  is  reasonably  large,  one  presents  it  to 
the  family,  saying,  *  Pay  or  I  will  create  a  scandal.'  Do 
you  think  it  is  to  you,  who  are  penniless,  that  they  gave 
credit  ?  It  was  on  my  pocket  that  they  were  drawing, — 
on  my  pocket,  because  they  believe  me  rich.  They  sold 
you  at  exorbitant  prices  everything  they  wished  ;  and  they 
relied  on  me  to  pay  for  trousers  at  ninety  francs, 
shirts  at  forty  francs,  and  watches  at  six  hundred 
francs." 

Contrary  to  his  habits,  Maxence  did  not  offer  any  denial. 
"  I  will  pay  all  I  owe,"  he  said. 
"  You  !  " 

"  I  give  my  word  I  will  !  " 
"  And  with  what,  pray  ?  " 
"  With  my  salary." 
"  You  have  a  salary,  then  ?  " 

Maxence  blushed.  I  have  what  I  earn  at  my  em- 
ployer's." 

"  What  employer  ?  " 

"  The  architect  in  whose  office  M.  Chapelain  helped  me 
to  find  a  place." 

With  a  threatening  gesture,  M.  Favoral  interrupted  him. 
"  Spare  me  your  lies,"  he  exclaimed.  "  I  know  more  than 
you  suppose.  I  know,  that,  over  a  month  ago,  your 
employer,  tired  of  your  idleness,  dismissed  you  in  dis- 
grace." 

Disgrace  was  superfluous.  The  fact  was,  that  Maxence, 
returning  to  work  after  an  absence  of  five  days,  had  found 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


another  in  his  place.  I  will  procure  other  employment/' 
he  said. 

M.  Favoral  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  a  movement  of 
rage.  ^'  And  in  the  mean  time/'  he  said,  "  I  shall  have  to 
pay.  Do  you  know  what  your  creditors  threaten  to  do  ? 
— to  commence  a  suit  against  me.  They  would  lose  it, 
of  course,  they  know  it ;  but  they  hope  that  I  will  yield  be- 
fore a  scandal.  For  this  is  not  all  :  they  talk  of  entering 
a  criminal  complaint.  They  pretend  that  you  have  auda- 
ciously swindled  them  ;  that  the  articles  you  purchased  of 
them  were  not  at  all  for  your  own  use,  but  that  you  sold 
them  as  fast  as  you  got  them,  at  any  price  you  could  ob- 
tain, to  raise  ready  money.  The  jeweller  has  proofs,  he 
says,  that  you  went  straight  from  his  shop  to  the  pawn- 
broker's, and  pledged  a  watch  and  chain  which  he  had 
just  sold  you.  It  is  a  matter  for  the  police.  They  said 
all  that  before  the  manager,  before  M.  de  Thaller.  I  had  to 
get  the  porter  to  turn  them  out.  But  after  they  had  left, 
M.  de  Thaller  gave  me  to  understand  that  he  wished  me  very 
much  to  settle  everything.  And  he  is  right.  My  rep- 
utation could  not  resist  another  scene  like  that.  What  con- 
fidence can  be  placed  in  a  cashier  whose  son  is  a  libertine 
and  a  swindler  ?  How  can  the  key  of  a  safe  containing 
millions  be  left  with  a  man  whose  son  has  been  dragged  into 
the  police-courts  ?  In  a  word,  I  am  at  your  mercy.  In  a 
word,  my  honour,  my  position,  and  my  fortune,  are  in  your 
hands.  As  often  as  it  may  please  you  to  make  debts,  you 
will  do  so,  and  I  shall  be  compelled  to  pay." 

Gathering  all  his  courage,  Maxence  replied,  "  You  have 
been  sometimes  very  harsh  with  me,  father,  and  yet  I  will 
not  try  to  justify  my  conduct.  I  swear  to  you,  that  here- 
after you  shall  have  nothing  to  fear  from  me." 

"  I  fear  nothing,''  exclaimed  M.  Favoral  with  a  sinister 
smile.  I  know  sure  means  of  placing  myself  beyond 
the  reach  of  your  follies,  and  I  shall  make  use  of  them." 

"  I  assure  you,  father,  that  I  have  taken  a  firm  resolu- 
tion." 

Oh  !  spare  me  your  periodical  repentance." 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  stepped  forward  and  said  ;  "  I'll 
stand  warrant  for  Maxence's  resolutions." 

Her  father  did  not  permit  her  to  proceed.  "  Enough," 
he  interrupted  harshly.  Mind  your  own  business,  Gil- 
berte.   I  have  to  speak  to  you  too." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 


57 


"  To  me,  father  ? 
Yes." 

He  walked  up  and  down  the  room  three  or  four  times, 
as  if  to  cahn  his  irritation.  Then  planting  himself  straight 
in  front  of  his  daughter,  his  arms  folded  across  his  breast, 
he  resumed  :  "  You  are  eighteen  years  of  age,  that  is  to 
say,  it  is  time  to  think  of  your  marriage.  An  excellent 
match  offers  itself." 

She  shuddered,  stepped  back,  and,  redder  than  a  peony, 
she  repeated  in  a  tone  of  immense  surprise  :  "  A  match  !  " 

"  Yes,  and  which  suits  me." 

"  But  I  do  not  wish  to  marry,  father." 
All  young  girls  say  the  same  thing ;  and,  as  soon  as  a 
pretender  presents  himself,  they  are  delighted.    Mine  is 
a  young  fellow  of  twenty-six,  good-looking,  amiable,  witty, 
and  who  has  had  the  greatest  success  in  society." 

Father,  I  assure  you  that  I  do  not  wish  to  leave  my 
mother." 

"  Of  course  not.  He  is  an  intelligent,  hard-working 
man,  destined,  everybody  says,  to  make  an  immense  for- 
tune. Although  he  is  rich  already,  for  he  holds  a  con- 
trolling interest  in  a  stock-broker's  firm,  he  works  as  hard 
as  any  poor  devil.  I  would  not  be  a  bit  surprised  to  hear 
that  he  makes  half  a  million  of  francs  a-year.  His  wife 
will  have  her  carriage,  her  box  at  the  opera,  diamonds, 
and  dresses  as  handsome  as  Madame  de  Thaller's." 

"  Eh  !    What  do  I  care  for  such  things  ?  " 

"  It's  understood.    I'll  present  him  to  you  on  Saturday." 

But  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  was  not  one  of  those  young 
girls  who  allow  themselves,  through  weakness  or  timidity, 
to  become  engaged  against  their  will,  and  so  far  engaged, 
that  later  they  can  no  longer  withdraw.  A  discussion 
being  unavoidable,  she  preferred  to  have  it  out  at  once, 
"  A  presentation  is  absolutely  useless,  father,"  she  declared 
resolutely. 

"  Because }  " 

"  I  have  already  told  you,  I  do  not  wish  to  marry." 
"  But  if  it  is  my  will  ?  " 

"  I  am  ready  to  obey  you  in  everything  except  that — " 
"  In  that  as  in  everything  else,"  interruped  the  cashier 
of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  in  a  thundering  voice.  And, 
casting  upon  his  wife  and  children  a  glance  full  of  defiance 
and  threats,  he  repeated,  "  In  that,  as  in  everything  else, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


because  I  am  the  master,  and  I  shall  prove  it.  Yes,  I  will 
prove  it,  for  I  am  tired  to  see  my  family  leagued  against 
my  authority/'  And  he  went  out,  slamming  the  door  so 
violently,  that  everything  in  the  room  shook. 

"  You  are  wrong  to  resist  your  father  thus,"  murmured 
the  weak  Madame  Favoral.  The  fact  is,  that  the  poor 
woman  could  not  understand  why  her  daughter  refused 
the  only  means  at  her  command  to  break  off  with  her 
miserable  existence.  Let  him  introduce  this  young  man 
to  you,''  she  continued.  You  might  like  him." 
I  am  sure  I  shall  not  like  him." 

Gilberte  said  this  in  such  a  tone,  that  the  real  truth 
suddenly  flashed  upon  Madame  Favoral's  mind.  Heav- 
ens !  "  she  murmured.  Gilberte,  my  darling  child,  have 
you  then  a  secret  which  your  mother  does  not  know  ?  " 


XIV. 

Yes,  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  had  a  secret, — a  very  simple 
one,  though,  chaste  like  herself,  and  one  of  those  which, 
as  the  old  women  say,  must  cause  the  angels  to  rejoice. 
The  spring  of  that  year  having  been  unusually  mild,  Mad- 
ame Favoral  and  her  daughter  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
going  daily  to  breathe  the  fresh  air  in  the  garden  of  the 
Place  Royale.  They  took  their  work  with  them,  crochet 
or  knitting ;  so  that  this  salutary  exercise  did  not  in  any 
way  diminish  the  earnings  of  the  week.  It  was  during 
these  walks  that  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  had  at  last  noticed 
a  young  man,  unknown  to  her,  whom  she  met  every  day 
at  the  same  place.  Tall  and  robust,  he  had  a  noble  look, 
notwithstanding  his  modest  clothes,  the  exquisite  neat- 
ness of  which  betrayed  a  sort  of  respectable  poverty. 
He  wore  a  full  beard,  and  his  proud  and  intelligent  features 
were  lighted  up  by  a  pair  of  large  black  eyes,  whose 
straight  and  clear  look  disconcerted  hypocrites  and  knaves. 
He  never  failed,  as  he  passed  by  Mademoiselle  Gilberte, 
to  look  down,  or  turn  his  head  slightly  away ;  and  in  spite 
of  this,  in  spite  of  the  expression  of  respect  which  she  had 
detected  upon  his  face,  she  could  not  help  blushing. 

Which  is  absurd,"  thought  she ;  "  for,  after  all,  what  on 
earth  do  I  care  for  this  young  man  ?  "  The  infallible  in- 
stinct, which  is  the  experience  of  inexperienced  young 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


59 


girls,  told  her  that  it  was  not  chance  alone  that  brought 
this  stranger  in  her  way.  But  she  wished  to  make  sure 
of  it.  She  managed  so  well,  that,  each  day  of  the  follow- 
ing week,  the  hour  of  their  walk  was  changed.  Sometimes 
they  went  out  at  noon,  sometimes  after  four  o'clock.  But, 
whatever  the  hour.  Mademoiselle  Gilberte,  as  she  turned 
the  corner  of  the  Rue  des  Minimes,  noticed  her  unknown 
admirer  under  the  arcades,  standing  in  front  of  some  shop- 
window,  and  watching  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye.  As 
soon  as  she  appeared,  he  left  his  post,  and  hurried  fast 
enough  to  pass  her  as  she  entered  the  garden.  "  It  is  a 
persecution  !  thought  Mademoiselle  Gilberte.  Why,  then, 
had  she  not  spoken  of  it  to  her  mother  t  Why  had  she 
not  said  anything  to  her  the  day,  when,  happening  to  look 
out  of  the  window,  she  saw  the  persecutor  "  passing 
before  the  house,  and  evidently  looking  in  her  direction  ? 
"  Am  I  going  crazy  ?  "  she  thought,  seriously  irritated 
against  herself.    "  I  will  not  think  of  him  any  more." 

And  yet  she  was  thinking  of  him,  wdien  one  afternoon, 
as  her  mother  and  herself  were  sitting  upon  one  of  the 
seats  working,  she  saw  the  stranger  come  and  sit  down 
not  far  from  them.  He  was  accompanied  by  an  elderly 
gentleman  with  long  white  moustaches,  and  wearing  the 
rosette  of  the  Legion  of  Honour.  This  is  an  insolence," 
thought  the  young  girl,  whilst  seeking  a  pretext  to  ask  her 
mother  to  change  their  seat.  But  already  had  the  young 
man  and  his  elderly  friend  so  arranged  their  chairs,  that 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte  could  not  miss  a  word  of  what 
they  were  about  to  say.  It  was  the  young  man  who  spoke 
first.  "  You  know  me  as  well  as  I  know  myself,  my  dear 
count,"  he  commenced, — you  who  were  my  poor  father's 
best  friend,  you  who  dandled  me  upon  your  knees  when  I 
was  a  child,  and  who  have  never  lost  sight  of  me." 

"  Which  is  to  say,  my  boy,  that  I  answer  for  you  as  for 
myself,"  put  in  the  old  man.    "  But  continue."  ^ 

"  I  am  twenty-six  years  old.  My  name  is  Yves-MaArius- 
Genost  de  Tregars.  My  family,  which  is  one  of  the  oldest 
of  Brittany,  is  allied  to  all  the  great  families." 

"  Perfectly  exact !  "  remarked  the  old  gentleman. 

"  Unfortunately,  my  fortune  is  not  on  a  par  with  my  no- 
bility. When  my  mother  died,  in  1856,  my  father,  who 
worshipped  her,  could  no  longer  bear,  in  the  intensity  of 


6o 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


his  grief,  to  remain  at  the  Chateau  de  Tregars  where  he 
had  spent  his  whole  Hfe.  He  came  to  Paris,  which  he 
could  well  afford,  since  we  were  rich  then,  but,  unfortu- 
nately, made  acquaintances  who  soon  inoculated  him  with 
the  fever  of  the  age.  They  proved  to  him  that  he  was  mad 
to  keep  lands  which  barely  yielded  him  forty  thousand 
francs  a-year,  and  which  he  could  easily  sell  for  two  mill- 
ions ;  which  amount,  invested  merely  at  five  per  cent, 
would  yield  him  an  income  of  one  hundred  thousand  francs. 
He  therefore  sold  everything,  except  our  patrimonial  do- 
main situated  on  the  road  from  Quimper  to  Audierne,  and 
rushed  into  speculation.  He  was  rather  lucky  at  first 
But  he  was  too  honest  and  too  loyal  to  be  lucky  long.  An 
operation  in  which  he  became  interested  early  in  1869 
turned  out  badly.  His  associates  became  rich  ;  but  he,  I 
know  not  how,  was  ruined,  and  came  near  being  compro- 
mised.   He  died  of  grief  less  than  a  month  later.'' 

The  old  soldier  nodded  assent.  "  That  is  all  very  true, 
my  boy,''  he  said.  "  But  you  are  too  modest ;  there's  an 
important  circumstance  which  you  neglect.  You  had  a 
right,  when  your  father  became  involved  in  these  troubles, 
to  claim  and  retain  your  mother's  fortune ;  that  is,  some 
thirty  thousand  francs  a  year.  Not  only  you  did  not  do 
so  ;  but  you  gave  up  everything  to  his  creditors.  You  sold 
the  domain  of  Tregars,  except  the  old  chateau  and  its 
park,  and  paid  over  the  proceeds  to  them  ;  so  that,  though 
your  father  died  ruined,  he  owed  nothing.  And  yet  you 
knew,  as  well  as  myself,  that  your  father  had  been  deceived 
and  swindled  by  a  lot  of  scoundrels  who  now  drive  in  their 
carriages,  and  who,  perhaps,  if  justice  were  applied  to, 
might  still  be  made  to  disgorge  their  ill-gotten  plunder." 

Her  head  bent  on  her  tapestry.  Mademoiselle  Gilberte 
seemed  to  be  working  with  incomparable  zeal.  The  truth 
is,  she  knew  not  how  to  conceal  the  blushes  on  her 
cheeks,  and  the  trembling  of  her  hands.  She  had  some- 
thing like  a  cloud  before  her  eyes ;  and  she  drove  her 
needle  at  random.  She  scarcely  preserved  enough  presence 
of  mind  to  reply  to  Madame  Favoral,  w^ho,  not  noticing 
anything,  spoke  to  her  from  time  to  time.  Indeed,  the 
meaning  of  this  scene  was  too  clear  to  escape  her.  They 
have  had  an  understanding,"  she  thought,  "  and  it  is  for 
me  alone  that  they  are  speaking." 

Meantime,  Marius  de  Tregars  was  saying,  "  I  should 


OTHEN  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


6i 


lie,  my  old  friend,  were  I  to  say  that  I  was  indifferent  to 
our  ruin.  Philosopher  though  one  may  be,  it  is  not  with- 
out some  pangs  that  one  passes  from  a  sumptuous  man- 
sion to  a  gloomy  attic.  But  what  grieved  me  most  of  all 
was  that  I  saw  myself  compelled  to  give  up  the  labours 
which  had  been  the  joy  of  my  life,  and  upon  which  I  had 
founded  the  most  magnificent  hopes.  A  positive  vocation, 
stimulated  further  by  the  accidents  of  my  education,  had 
led  me  to  the  study  of  physical  science.  For  several  years, 
I  had  applied  all  I  have  of  intelligence  and  energy  to  cer- 
tain investigations  in  electricity.  To  convert  electricity 
into  an  incomparable  motive-power  which  would  supersede 
steam — such  was  the  object  I  pursued  incessantly.  Al- 
ready, as  you  know,  although  quite  young,  I  had  obtained 
results  which  had  attracted  some  attention  in  the  scientific 
world.  I  thought  I  could  see  the  result  of  a  problem,  the 
solution  of  which  would  change  the  face  of  the  globe. 
Ruin  was  the  death  of  my  hopes,  the  total  loss  of  the  fruits 
of  my  labours ;  for  my  experiments  were  costly,  and  it  re- 
quired money,  a  great  deal  of  money,  to  purchase  the  ma- 
terials which  were  indispensable  to  me,  and  to  construct 
the  machines  which  I  contrived.  And  I  was  about  being 
compelled  to  earn  my  daily  bread.  I  was  on  the  verge  of 
despair,  when  I  met  a  man  whom  I  had  formerly  seen  at 
my  father's,  and  who  had  seemed  to  take  some  interest  in 
my  researches,  a  speculator  named  Marcolet.  But  it  is  not 
on  the  Bourse  that  he  operates.  Industry  is  the  field  of 
his  labours.  Ever  on  the  look-out  for  those  obstinate  in- 
ventors who  are  starving  to  death  in  their  garrets,  he  ap- 
pears to  them  at  the  hour  of  supreme  crisis  ;  he  pities  them, 
encourages  them,  consoles  them,  helps  them,  and  almost 
always  succeeds  in  becoming  the  owner  of  their  discovery. 
Sometimes  he  makes  a  mistake  :  and  then  all  he  has  to  do 
is  to  put  a  few  thousand  francs  to  the  debit  of  profit  or 
loss.  But,  if  he  has  judged  right,  then  he  counts  his 
profits  by  hundreds  of  thousands  ;  and  how  many  patents 
does  he  work  thus  !  Of  how  many  inventions  does  he  reap 
the  results  which  are  a  fortune,  and  the  inventors  of  which 
have  no  shoes  to  wear  !  Everything  is  good  to  him  ;  and 
he  defends  with  the  same  avidity  a  cough  mixture,  the  for. 
mula:  of  which  he  has  purchased  of  some  poor  devil  of  a 
druggist,  and  an  improvement  to  the  steam-engine,  the  pa- 
tent for  which  has  been  sold  to  him  by  an  engineer  of  gen- 


62 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


ius.  And  yet  Marcolet  is  not  a  bad  man.  Seeing  my 
situation,  he  offered  me  a  certain  sum  yearly  to  undertake 
some  studies  of  industrial  chemistry  which  he  indicated  to 
me.  I  accepted ;  and  the  very  next  day  I  hired  a  small 
apartment  on  the  ground-floor  in  the  Rue  des  Tournelles, 
where  I  set  up  my  laboratory,  and  went  to  work  at  once. 
That  was  a  year  ago.  Marcolet  must  be  satisfied.  I  have 
already  found  for  him  a  new  shade  for  dyeing  silk,  the  cost 
price  of  which  is  almost  nothing.  As  to  me,  I  have  lived 
with  the  strictest  economy,  devoting  all  my  surplus  earn- 
ings to  the  prosecution  of  the  problem,  the  solution  of 
which  would  give  me  both  glory  and  fortune.^' 

Palpitating  with  inexpressible  emotion.  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte  was  listening  to  this  young  man,  unknown  to  her 
a  few  moments  before,  and  whose  whole  history  she  now 
knew  as  well  as  if  she  had  always  lived  near  him;  for  it 
never  occurred  to  her  to  suspect  his  sincerity.  No  voice 
had  ever  vibrated  in  her  ear  like  this  voice,  whose  grave 
sonorousness  stirred  within  her  strange  sensations,  and  le- 
gions of  thoughts  which  she  had  never  suspected.  She 
was  surprised,  at  the  accent  of  simplicity  with  which  he 
spoke  of  the  illustriousness  of  his  famil)^,  of  his  past  opu- 
lence, of  his  present  poverty,  of  his  obscure  labours,  and 
of  his  exalted  hopes.  She  admired  the  superb  disregard 
for  money  which  beamed  forth  in  his  every  word.  Here 
was  then  one  man,  at  least,  who  despised  that  money  be- 
fore which  she  had  hitherto  seen  prostrated  all  the  people 
she  knew. 

After  a  pause  of  a  few  moments,  Marius  de  Tregars, 
still  addressing  himself  apparently  to  his  aged  companion, 
resumed, — "  I  repeat  it,  because  it  is  the  truth,  my  old 
friend,  this  life  of  labour  and  privation,  so  new  to  me,  was 
not  a  burden.  Calm,  silence,  the  constant  exercise  of  all 
the  faculties  of  the  intellect,  have  charms  which  the  vul- 
gar can  never  suspect.  I  was  happy  to  think,  that,  if  I 
was  ruined,  it  was  through  an  act  of  my  own  will.  I  found 
a  positive  pleasure  in  the  fact  that  I,  Marquis  de  Tregars, 
who  had  possessed  a  hundred  thousand  francs  a  year, — I 
must  the  next  moment  go  out  in  person  to  the  baipker's 
and  the  green-grocer's  to  purchase  my  supplies  for  the  day. 
I  was  proud  to  think  that  it  was  to  my  labour  alone,  to  the 
work  for  which  I  was  paid  by  Marcolet,  that  I  owed  the 
means  of  prosecuting  my  task.    And,  from  the  summits 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


63 


where  I  was  carried  on  the  wings  of  science,  I  took  pity  on 
your  modern  existence,  on  that  ridiculous  and  tragical 
medley  of  passions,  interests,  and  cravings,  that  struggle 
without  truce  or  mercy,  whose  law  is,  woe  to  the  weak  ! 
In  which  whosoever  falls  is  trampled  under  foot !  Some- 
times, however,  like  a  fire  that  has  been  smouldering  under 
the  ashes,  the  flame  of  youthful  passions  blazed  up  within 
me.  I  had  hours  of  madness,  of  discouragement,  of  dis- 
tress, during  which  solitude  was  loathsome  to  me.  But  I 
had  the  faith  which  raises  mountains, — faith  in  myself  and 
my  work.  And  soon,  tranquillised,  I  would  go  to  sleep  in 
the  purple  of  hope,  beholding  in  the  vista  of  the  distant 
future  the  triumphal  arches  erected  to  my  success.  Such 
was  my  situation,  when,  one  afternoon  in  the  month  of 
February  last,  after  an  experiment  upon  which  I  had 
founded  great  hopes,  and  which  had  just  miserably  failed, 
I  came  here  to  breathe  a  little  fresh  air.  It  was  a  beauti- 
ful spring  day,  warm  and  sunny.  The  sparrows  were 
chirping  on  the  branches,  swelled  with  sap ;  bands  of 
children  were  running  along  the  paths,  filling  the  air  with 
their  joyous  cries.  I  was  sitting  upon  a  bench,  rumina- 
ting over  the  causes  of  my  failure,  when  two  ladies  passed 
by  me ;  one  somewhat  aged,  the  other  quite  young.  They 
were  walking  ^$0  rapidly,  that  I  hardly  had  time  to  see 
them.  But  the  young  lady's  step,  the  noble  simplicity  of 
her  carriage,  had  struck  me  so  much,  that  I  rose  to  follow 
her  with  the  intention  of  passing  her,  and  then  walking 
back  to  have  a  good  view  of  her  face.  I  did  so  ;  and  I  was 
fairly  dazzled.  -At  the  moment  when  my  eyes  met  hers,  a 
voice  rose  within  me,  crying  that  it  was  all  over  now,  and 
that  my  destiny  was  fixed." 

I  remember,  my  dear  boy,"  remarked  the  old  gentle- 
man in  a  tone  of  friendly  raillery  ;  for  you  came  to  see 
me  that  evening,  and  1  had  not  seen  you  for  months 
before." 

Marius  proceeded,  without  heeding  the  remark.  "  And 
yet  you  know  that  I  am  not  the  man  to  yield  to  a  first  im- 
pression. I  struggled  :  with  determined  energy  I  strove 
to  drive  off  that  radiant  image  which  I  carried  within  my 
soul,  which  left  me  no  more,  which  haunted  me  in  the 
midst  of  my  studies.  Vain  efforts  !  My  thoughts  obeyed 
me  no  longer ;  my  will  escaped  my  control.  It  was  in- 
deed one  of  those  passions  that  fill  the  whole  being,  ovar- 


ii 


64 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


power  all,  and  which  make  of  Hfe  an  ineffable  felicity  or  a 
nameless  torture,  according  that  they  are  reciprocated  or 
not.  How  many  days  I  spent,  waiting  and  watching  for 
her  of  whom  I  had  thus  had  a  glimpse,  and  who  ignored 
my  very  existence  !  And  what  insane  palpitations,  when, 
after  hours  of  consuming  anxiety,  I  saw  at  the  corner  of 
the  street  the  undulating  folds  of  her  dress  !  I  saw  her  thus 
often,  and  always  with  the  same  elderly  person,  her 
mother.  They  had  chosen  in  this  garden  a  particular  seat, 
where  they  sat  daily,  working  at  their  sewing  with  an  assi- 
duity and  zeal  which  made  me  think  that  they  lived  upon 
the  product  of  their  labour.'' 

Here  he  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  his  companion. 
The  old  gentleman  feared  that  Madame  Favoral's  atten- 
tion might  at  last  be  attracted  by  too  direct  allusions. 

Take  care,  my  boy  ! ''  he  whispered,  not  so  low,  however, 
but  that  Gilberte  overheard  him. 

It  would  have  required,  however,  much  more  than  this 
to  draw  Madame  Favoral  from  her  sad  thoughts.  She  had 
just  finished  her  piece  of  embroidery;  and,  grieving  to 
lose  a  moment,  she  said  to  her  daughter,  It  is  perhaps 
time  to  go  home,  I  have  nothing  more  to  do." 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  drew  from  her  basket  a  piece  of 
stuff,  and,  handing  it  to  her  mother,  replied^  in  a  troubled 
voice  :  "  Here  is  enough  to  go  on  with,  mamma.  Let  us 
stay  a  little  while  longer." 

And  Madame  Favoral  having  resumed  her  work,  Marius 
proceeded, — "  The  thought  that  she  whom  I  loved  was 
poor  delighted  me.  Was  not  this  similarity  of  positions  a 
link  between  us  ?  I  felt  a  childish  joy  to  think  that  I 
would  work  for  her  and  for  her  mother,  and  that  they 
would  be  indebted  to  me  for  their  ease  and  comfort  in  life. 
But  I  am  not  one  of  those  dreamers  who  confide  their 
destiny  to  the  wings  of  a  chimera.  Before  undertaking 
anything,  I  resolved  to  obtain  information.  Alas  !  at  the 
first  words  that  I  heard,  all  my  fine  dreams  took  flight.  I 
learnt  that  she  was  rich,  very  rich.  I  was  told  that  her 
father  was  one  of  those  men  whose  rigid  probity  surrounds 
itself  with  austere  and  harsh  forms.  He  owed  his  fortune, 
I  was  assured,  not  only  to  his  sole  labour,  but  also  to 
prodigies  of  enconomy  and  the  most  severe  privations. 
He  professed  a  worship,  they  said,  for  that  gold  that  had 
cost  him  so  much  ;  and  he  would  never  give  the  hand  of 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


65 


his  daughter  to  a  man  who  had  no  money.  This  last 
comment  was  useless.  Above  my  actions,  my  thoughts, 
my  hopes,  higher  than  all,  soars  my  pride.  Instantly  I  saw 
an  abyss  opening  between  me  and  her  whom  I  love  more 
than  my  life,  but  less  than  my  dignity.  When  a  man's 
name  is  Genost  de  Tregars,  he  must  support  his  wife,  even 
were  it  by  breaking  stones.  And  the  thought  that  I  owed  my 
fortune  to  the  woman  I  married  would  make  me  execrate 
her.  You  must  remember,  my  old  friend,  that  I  told  you 
all  this  at  the  time.  You  thought,  too,  that  it  was  singu- 
larly impertinent,  on  my  part,  thus  to  flare  up  in  advance, 
because  certainly  a  millionaire  would  not  give  his  daughter 
to  a  ruined  nobleman  in  the  pay  of  Marcolet,  the  patent- 
broker,  to  a  poor  devil  of  an  inventor,  who  is  building  the 
castles  of  his  future  upon  the  solution  of  a  problem  which 
has  been  given  up  by  the  most  brilliant  minds.  It  was 
then  that  I  determined  upon  an  extreme  resolution,  a  fool- 
ish one,  no  doubt,  and  yet  to  which  you,  the  Count  de  Vil- 
legre,  my  father's  old  friend,  you  have  consented  to  lend 
yourself.  I  thought  that  I  would  address  myself  to  her,  to 
her  alone,  and  that  she  would  at  least  know  what  great, 
what  immense  love  she  had  inspired.  I  thought  I  would 
go  to  her  and  tell  her,  *  This  is  who  I  am,  and  what  I  am. 
For  mercy's  sake,  grant  me  a  respite  of  three  years.  To 
love  such  as  mine,  nothing  is  impossible.  Tn  three  years 
I  shall  be  dead,  or  rich  enough  to  ask  your  hand.  From 
this  day  forth,  I  give  up  my  task  for  work  of  more  imme- 
diate profit.  The  arts  of  industry  have  treasures  for  suc- 
cessful inventors.  If  you  could  only  read  in  my  soul,  you 
would  not  refuse  me  the  delay  I  am  asking.  Forgive  me  1 
One  word,  for  mercy's  sake,  only  one  !  It  is  my  sentence 
that  I  am  awaiting." 

Madamoiselle  Gilberte's  thoughts  were  in  too  great  a 
state  of  confusion  to  permit  her  to  think  of  being  offended 
at  this  extraordinary  proceeding.  She  rose,  shivering,  and 
addressing  herself  to  Madame  Favoral,  she  said  :  Come, 
mother,  come,  I  feel  that  I  have  taken  cold.  I  must  go 
home  and  think.  To-morrow,  yes,  to-morrow,  we  will 
come  again." 

Deep  as  Madame  Favoral  was  plunged  in  her  medita- 
tions, and  a  thousand  miles  as  she  was  from  the  actual 
situation,  she  could  not  help,  however,  noticing  the  intense 
excitement  under  which  her  daughter  laboured,  the  altera- 


66 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


tion  of  her  features,  and  the  incoherence  of  her  words. 

What  is  the  matter  ?  "  she  asked,  somewhat  alarmed 
"  What  are  you  saying  ? 

"  I  feel  unwell,"  answered  the  young  girl  in  a  scarcely 
audible  voice,    very  unwell.    Come,  let  us  go  home." 

As  soon  as  they  reached  home.  Mademoiselle  Gilberte 
took  refuge  in  her  own  room.  She  was  in  haste  to  be 
alone,  to  recover  her  self-possession,  to  collect  her  thoughts, 
more  scattered  than  dry  leaves  by  a  storm  of  wind.  It 
was  a  momentous  event  which  had  entered  suddenly  in  her 
life,  hitherto  so  monotonous  and  so  calm,  the  consequences 
of  which  were  likely  to  considerably  influence  her  future. 
She  almost  asked  herself  if  she  was  not  the  victim  of  an 
halluciation,  and  if  really  there  was  a  man  who  had  dared 
to  conceive  and  execute  the  audacious  project  of  thus  de- 
claring his  love,  under  her  mother's  eyes,  and  of  asking 
her  in  return  to  enter  into  a  solemn  engagement.  But 
what  surprised  her  still  more,  what  she  could  not  under- 
stand, was  that  she  had  actually  submittted  to  such  a  pro- 
ceeding. 

Under  what  despotic  influence  had  she,  then,  fallen 
To  what  undefinable  sentiments  had  she  obeyed  ?  And  if 
she  had  only  tolerated  !  But  she  had  done  more  ;  she 
had  actually  encouraged.  By  detaining  her  mother  when 
she  wished  to  go  home,  and  she  had  detained  her,  had  she 
not  intimated  to  this  stranger  that  he  might  continue  his 
declarations  ?  And  he  had  continued.  And  she,  at  the 
moment  of  returning  home,  had  promised  to  reflect,  and  to 
return  the  next  day  at  a  stated  hour  to  give  an  answer.  In 
a  word,  she  had  made  an  appointment  with  him.  It  was 
enough  to  make  her  die  of  shame.  And,  as  if  she  had 
needed  the  sound  of  her  own  words  to  convince  herself  of 
the  reality  of  the  fact,  she  kept  repeating  aloud  :  "  I  have 
made  an  appointment,  I,  Gilberte,  with  a  man  whom  my 
parents  do  not  know,  and  whose  name  I  heard  to-day  for 
the  first  time."  But  she  could  not  take  upon  herself  to  be 
indignant  at  the  imprudent  boldness  of  her  conduct.  The 
bitterness  of  the  reproaches  which  she  was  addressing  to 
herself  was  not  sincere.  She  felt  it  so  well,  that  she  at 
last  exclaimed,  "  Such  hypocrisy  is  unworthy  of  me,  since 
even  now,  though  without  the  excuse  of  being  taken  by 
surprise,  I  would  not  act  otherwise." 

The  fact  is,  the  more  she  pondered,  the  less  she  sue- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


ceeded  in  discovering  even  the  shadow  of  any  offensive  in* 
tention  in  all  that  Marius  de  Tiegars  had  said.  By  th6 
choice  of  his  confidant,  an  old  man,  a  friend  of  his  family, 
a  man  of  the  highest  respectability,  he  had  done  all  in  his 
power  to  render  his  temerity  excusable.  It  was  impossi- 
ble to  doubt  his  sincerity,  to  suspect  the  honourability  of 
his  intentions.  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  could  understand 
better  than  almost  any  other  young  girl,  the  extreme  meas- 
ure resorted  to  by  M.  de  Tregars.  By  her  own  pride  she 
could  understand  his.  No  more  than  he  would  she  have 
been  willing  to  expose  herself  to  a  certain  refusal,  had  she 
been  in  his  place.  What  was  there,  then,  so  extraordinary 
in  the  fact  of  his  coming  directly  to  her,  and  exposing 
frankly  and  loyally  his  position,  his  projects,  and  his  hopes  1 
"  Good  heavens  !  "  she  thought,  horrified  at  the  sentiments 
which  she  discovered  in  the  deep  recesses  of  her  soul, 
"  good  heavens  !  I  hardly  know  myself.  Here  I  am  actu- 
ally approving  what  he  has  done  !  "  Well,  yes,  she  did  ap- 
prove, attracted,  fascinated  as  she  was,  by  the  very  strange- 
ness of  the  situation.  Nothing  seemed  to  her  more  admir- 
able than  the  conduct  of  Marius  Tregars  sacrificing  his 
fortune  and  his  most  cherished  aspirations  to  the  honour 
of  his  name,  and  condemning  himself  to  work  for  his  liv- 
ing. "  That  one,"  thought  she,  is  a  man  ;  and  his  wife 
will  have  just  cause  to  be  proud  of  him."  Involuntarily, 
almost,  she  compared  him  to  the  only  men  she  knew  ;  to 
M.  Favoral,  whose  excessive  niggardliness  had  made  his 
whole  family  wretched  ;  to  Maxence,  who  did  not  blush  to 
feed  his  dissipation  with  the  fruits  of  his  mother's  and  his 
sister's  labour.  How  different  was  Marius  !  If  he  was 
poor,  it  was  of  his  own  will.  Had  she  not  seen  what  con- 
fidence he  had  in  himself.  She  shared  it  fully.  She  felt 
certain,  that,  within  the  required  delay,  he  would  conquer 
that  indispensable  fortune.  Then  he  might  present  him- 
self boldly.  He  would  take  her  away  from  the  miserable 
surroundings  among  which  she  seemed  fated  to  live  ;  she 
would  become  the  Marchioness  de  Tregars.  "  Why,  then, 
not  answer.  Yes  ? "  thought  she,  with  the  harrowing  emo- 
tions of  the  gambler  who  is  about  to  risk  his  all  upon  a 
card.  And  what  a  game  for  Mademoiselle  Gilberte,  and 
what  a  stake  !  Suppose  she  had  been  mistaken.  Suppose 
that  Marius  should  turn  out  to  be  one  of  those  villains  who 
make  a  science  of  seduction.    Would  she  still  be  her  own 


68 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


mistress,  after  answering  ?  Did  she  know  to  what  hazards 
such  an  engagement  would  expose  her  ?  Was  she  not 
about  rushing  blindfolded  towards  those  deceiving  perils 
where  a  young  girl  leaves  her  reputation,  even  when  she 
saves  her  honour  ?  She  thought,  for  a  moment,  of  con- 
sulting her  mother  ;  but  she  knew  Madame  Favoral's  shrink- 
ing timidity,  and  that  she  was  as  incapable  of  giving  advice 
as  of  upholding  her  will.  She  would  be  frightened,  she 
would  approve  everything,  and  then,  at  the  first  alarm,  she 
would  confess  all.  Am  I,  then,  so  weak  and  so  foolish," 
thought  Gilberte,  that  I  cannot  by  myself  take  a  deter- 
mination which  affects  me  personally  ? 

She  could  not  close  her  eyes  all  night ;  but  in  the  morn- 
ing she  had  made  up  her  mind.  Towards  one  o'clock,  she 
asked,    Are  we  not  going  out,  mother  ? 

Madame  Favoral  was  hesitating.  "  These  early  spring 
days  are  treacherous,"  she  objected  :  you  felt  cold  yes- 
terday." 

My  dress  was  too  thin.  To-day  I  have  taken  my  pre- 
cautions." 

They  started  out,  taking  their  work  with  them,  and  went 
to  occupy  their  accustomed  seats. 

Before  they  had  even  passed  the  gates  of  the  garden, 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte  had  recognised  Marius  de  Tregars 
and  the  Count  de  Villegre,  walking  in  one  of  the  side 
alleys.  Soon  after,  the  same  as  the  day  before,  they  took 
two  chairs,  and  settled  themselves  not  far  from  the  two 
ladies.  Never  had  the  young  girl's  heart  beat  with  such 
violence.  It  is  easy  enough  to  form  a  resolution,  but  it  is 
not  always  quite  so  easy  to  execute  it ;  and  she  was  asking 
herself  if  she  would  have  courage  enough  to  articulate  a 
word.  At  last,  she  said  :  You  don't  believe  in  dreams, 
do  you,  mother  }  " 

Upon  this  subject,  as  well  as  upon  many  others,  Madame 
Favoral  had  no  particular  opinion. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  me  ?  "  she  replied. 
Because  I  have  had  such  a  strange  one." 
Oh  ! " 

"  It  seemed  to  me  that  suddenly  a  young  man,  whom  I 
did  not  know,  stood  before  me.  He  would  have  been 
most  happy,  said  he  to  me,  to  ask  for  my  hand  ;  but  he 
dared  not,  being  very  poor.  And  he  begged  me  to  wait 
three  years,  during  which  he  would  make  his  fortune." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


6$ 


Madame  Favoral  smiled  and  said,  "  Why,  it^s  quite  a 
romance." 

"  But  it  wasn't  a  romance  in  my  dream,"  interrupted 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte.  "  This  young  man  spoke  in  a 
tone  of  such  profound  conviction,  that  it  was  impossible 
for  me,  as  it  were,  to  doubt  him.  I  thought  to  myself  that 
he  would  be  incapable  of  such  odious  villany  as  to  abuse 
the  confiding  credulity  of  a  young  girl." 
And  what  answer  did  you  give  him  ?  " 

Moving  her  seat  almost  imperceptibly,  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte  could,  from  the  corner  of  her  eye,  have  a  glimpse 
of  M.  de  Tregars.  Evidently  he  was  not  missing  a  single 
one  of  the  words  which  she  was  addressing  to  her  mother. 
He  was  whiter  than  a  sheet,  and  his  face  betrayed  the 
most  intense  anxiety.  This  gave  her  sufficient  energy  to 
overcome  the  last  revolts  of  her  conscience.  "  To  answer 
was  painful,"  she  said  ;  and  yet  I  dared  to  answer  him. 
"  I  believe  you,  and  I  have  f^th  in  you.  Loyally  and 
faithfully  I  will  await  your  success;  but  until  then  we 
must  be  strangers  to  one  another.  To  resort  to  ruse,  de- 
ceit, and  falsehood  would  be  unworthy  of  us.  You  surely 
would  not  expose  to  suspicion  her  who  is  to  be  your 
wife  ! '  " 

"  That  was  very  well  spoken,"  approved  Madame  Favo- 
ral ;  "  only  I  did  not  know  you  were  so  romantic." 

She  was  laughing,  the  good  lady,  but  not  loud  enough  to 
prevent  Gilberte  from  hearing  M.  de  Tregar's  answer. 
"  Count  de  Villegre,"  said  he,  my  old  friend,  receive  the 
oath  which  I  now  take  to  devote  my  life  to  her  who  has 
not  doubted  me.  It  is  to-day  the  4th  of  May,  1870  ;  on 
the  4th  of  May,  1873,  ^  shall  have  succeeded  :  I  feel  it,  I 
will  it,  it  must  be  !  " 

XV. 

Gilberte  Favoral  had  just  irrevocably  disposed  of 
herself.  Prosperous  or  wretched,  her  destiny  henceforth 
was  linked  with  another.  She  had  set  the  wheel  in  mo. 
tion,  and  she  could  no  longer  hope  to  control  its  direction, 
any  more  than  the  will  can  pretend  to  alter  the  course  of 
the  ivory  ball  upon  the  surface  of  the  roulette-table.  At 
the  outset  of  this  great  storm  of  passion  which  had  sud- 
denly surrounded  her,  she  felt  an  immense  surprise,  min- 


70 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


gled  with  unexplained  apprehensions  and  vague  terrors. 
Around  her,  apparently,  nothing  was  changed.  Father, 
mother,  brother,  friends,  gravitated  mechanically  in  their 
accustomed  orbits.  The  same  daily  events  repeated  them- 
selves, monotonous  and  regular  as  the  tick-tack  of  the  clock. 
And  yet  something  had  occurred  more  prodigious  for  her 
then  the  moving  of  a  mountain.  Often,  during  the  weeks 
that  followed,  she  repeatedly  asked  herself,  Is  it  true,  is 
it  possible  even  ?  "  Or  else  she  would  run  to  a  mirror  to 
make  sure  once  more  that  nothing  upon  her  face  or  in  her 
eyes  betrayed  the  secret  that  palpitated  within  her.  The 
singularity  of  the  situation  was,  moreover,  well  calculated 
to  trouble  and  confound  her  mind.  Mastered  by  circum- 
stances, she  had,  in  utter  disregard  of  all  accepted  ideas, 
and  of  the  commonest  propriety,  listened  to  the  passionate 
promises  of  a  stranger,  and  pledged  her  life  to  him.  And, 
the  pact  concluded  and  solemnly  sworn,  they  had  parted 
without  knowing  when  propitious  circumstances  might 
bring  them  together  again.  "And yet,"  thought  she,  "  be- 
fore God,  M.  de  Tregars  is  my  betrothed  husband  ;  though 
we  have  never  exchanged  a  word.  Were  we  to  meet  in 
society,  we  should  be  compelled  to  act  as  strangers  to 
each  other :  \T  he  passes  me  in  the  street,  he  has  no 
right  to  bow  to  me.  I  know  not  where  he  is,  how  he  is, 
nor  what  he  is  doing."  And  in  fact  she  had  not  seen  him 
since ;  he  had  given  no  sign  of  life,  so  faithfully  did  he 
conform  to  her  expressed  wish.  And  perhaps  secretly, 
and  without  acknowledging  it  to  herself,  she  may  have 
wished  him  less  scrupulous.  Perhaps  she  would  not  have 
been  very  angry  had  she  seen  him  sometimes  hovering 
about  under  the  old  arcades  of  the  Rue  des  Vosges.  But, 
whilst  suffering  from  this  separation,  she  conceived  fo? 
Marius  the  highest  esteem ;  she  felt  sure  that  he  sufferec^ 
as  much  and  more  than  she  from  the  restraint  which  he 
imposed  upon  himself.  Thus  he  was  ever  present  to  hei 
thoughts.  She  never  tired  of  turning  over  in  her  mind  aK 
he  had  said  of  his  past  life ;  she  tried  to  remember  hiJi 
words,  and  the  very  tone  of  his  voice.  So  that  by  living 
constantly  with  the  memory  of  Marius  de  Tregars,  she 
made  herself  familiar  with  him,  deceived  to  that  extent  by 
the  illusion  of  absence,  that  she  actually  persuaded  herself 
that  she  knew  him  better  and  better  every  day. 

Already  nearly  a  month  had  elapsed,  when  one  after 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


7^ 


noon,  as  she  entered  the  garden  of  the  Place  Royale,  she 
recognised  him,  standing  near  that  same  seat  where  they 
had  so  strangely  exchanged  their  pledges.  He  saw  her 
coming  too  ;  she  knew  it  by  his  looks.  But,  when  she  had 
arrived  within  a  few  steps  of  him,  he  walked  off  rapidly, 
leaving  a  folded  newspaper  on  the  seat.  Madame  Favoral 
wished  to  call  him  back  and  give  it  him  ;  but  Gilberte 
persuaded  her  not  to.  Never  mind,  mother,''  said  she, 
"  it  isn't  worth  while;  and,  besides,  the  gentleman  is  too 
far  now."  But  while  getting  out  her  embroidery,  she  slip- 
ped the  newspaper  into  her  work-basket,  with  that  dex- 
terity which  never  fails  the  most  innocent  girls.  Was  she 
not  certain  that  it  had  been  left  there  for  her  ?  As  soon 
as  she  had  returned  home,  she  locked  herself  up  in  her 
room,  and,  after  searching  for  some  time  through  the  col- 
umns, she  at  last  came  across  the  following  paragraph : 
"  One  of  the  richest  and  most  intelligent  manufacturers  of 
Paris,  M.  Marcolet,  has  just  purchased  the  vast  grounds 
belonging  to  the  Lacoche  estate  at  Grenelle.  He  proposes 
to  build  thereon  a  manufactory  of  chemical  products,  the 
management  of  which  is  to  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  M. 

de  T  .    Although  still  quite  young,  M.  de  T  is  well 

known  in  connection  with  his  remarkable  studies  on  elec- 
tricity. He  was,  perhaps,  on  the  eve  of  solving  the  much 
controverted  problem  of  electricity  as  a  motive  power,  when 
his  father's  ruin  compelled  him  to  suspend  his  labours. 
He  now  seeks  to  obtain  the  means  of  prosecuting  his  costly 
experiments." 

"  Ah  !  he  does  not  forget  me,"  thought  Gilberte,  moved  to 
tears  by  this  article,  which,  after  all,  was  but  a  mere  puff, 
written  by  Marcolet  himself,  without  M.  de  Tregar's  knowl- 
edge. She  was  still  under  that  impression,  thinking  that 
Marius  was  already  at  work,  when  her  father  announced 
to  her  that  he  had  discovered  a  husband,  and  enjoined  her 
to  find  him  to  her  liking,  as  he,  the  master,  thought  him  all 
that  could  be  desired.    Hence  the  energy  of  her  refusal. 

But  hence,  also,  the  imprudent  vivacity  which  had  en- 
lightened Madame  Favoral,  and  had  made  her  say,  "  You 
are  hiding  something  from  me,  Gilberte  1  "  Never  had 
the  young  girl  been  so  cruelly  embarrassed  as  she  was  at 
this  moment  by  this  sudden  and  unforeseen  perspicacity. 
Ought  she  to  confide  in  her  mother  ?  She  felt,  indeed,  no 
repugnance  to  do  so,  certain  as  she  was,  in  advance,  of  the 


72 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


poor  woman's  inexhaustible  indulgence  ;  and,  besides,  she 
would  have  been  delighted  to  have  at  last  some  one  with 
whom  she  could  speak  of  Marius.  But  she  knew  that  her 
father  was  not  the  man  to  give  up  a  project  conceived  by 
himself.  She  knew  that  he  would  return  to  the  charge 
obstinately,  without  peace,  and  without  truce.  And,  as 
she  was  determined  to  resist  with  a  no  less  implacable  ob- 
stinacy, she  foresaw  terrible  struggles,  all  sorts  of  violence 
and  persecution.  Informed  of  the  truth,  would  Madame 
Favoral  have  strength  enough  to  resist  these  daily  storms  ? 
Would  not  a  time  come,  when,  called  upon  by  her  husband 
to  explain  her  daughter's  refusals,  threatened,  terrified, 
she  would  confess  all  ?  At  one  glance  Gilberte  estimated 
the  danger ;  and,  drawing  from  the  necessity  an  audacity 
which  was  foreign  to  her  nature,  she  replied  :  You  are 
mistaken  dear  mother,  I  have  concealed  nothing  from 
you." 

Not  quite  convinced,  Madame  Favoral  shook  her  head. 
"  Then,"  said  she,  "  you  will  yield." 
Never !  '' 

"  Then  there  must  be  some  reason  you  do  not  tell  me." 

"  None,  except  that  I  do  not  wish  to  leave  you.  Have 
you  ever  thought  what  your  existence  would  be  if  I  were 
no  longer  here  ?  Have  you  ever  asked  yourself  what 
would  become  of  you,  between  my  father,  whose  despotism 
will  grow  heavier  with  age,  and  my  brother  ?  " 

Always  prompt  to  defend  her  son,  the  mother  inter- 
rupted :  "  Maxence  is  not  wicked  ;  he  will  know  how  to 
compensate  me  for  the  slight  sorrows  he  has  inflicted  upon 
me." 

The  young  girl  made  a  gesture  of  doubt,  "  I  wish  it, 
dear  mother,"  said  she,  "  with  all  my  heart ;  but  I  dare 
not  hope  so.  His  repentance  to-night  was  great  and  sin- 
cere ;  but  will  he  remember  it  to-morrow  ?  Besides,  don't 
you  know  that  father  has  fully  resolved  to  separate  him- 
self from  Maxence  ?  Think  of  yourself  alone  here  with 
father." 

Madame  Favoral  shuddered  at  the  mere  idea.  I 
would  not  suffer  very  long,"  she  murmured. 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  kissed  her.  It  is  because  I 
wish  you  to  live  to  be  happy  that  I  refuse  to  marry,"  she 
exclaimed.  Must  you  not  have  your  share  of  happiness 
in  this  world  t    Let  me  manage.    Who  knows  what  com- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


73 


pensations  the  future  may  have  in  store  for  you  ?  Besides, 
this  person  whom  father  has  selected  for  me  does  not  suit 
me.  A  stock-jobber,  who  would  think  of  nothing  but 
money,  who  would  examine  my  house-accounts  as  father 
does  yours,  or  else  who  would  load  me  with  cashmeres 
and  diamonds,  like  Madame  de  Thaller,  to  serve  as  a 
sign  for  his  shop  ?  No,  no  !  I  will  not  marry  such  a  man. 
So,  mother  dear,  be  brave,  take  your  daughter's  part 
boldly,  and  we  shall  soon  be  rid  of  this  would-be  husband." 

"  Your  father  will  bring  him  to  see  you  ;  he  said  he 
would." 

Well,  he  will  be  a  very  courageous  man  if  he  returns 
three  times." 

At  this  moment  the  drawing-room  door  was  opened  sud- 
denly, and  the  irritated  voice  of  the  master  cried  :  What 
are  you  two  plotting  now  ?  And  you,  Madame  Favoral, 
why  don't  you  come  to  bed  ?  " 

The  poor  slave  obeyed,  without  saying  a  w^ord  ;  and  as 
Gilberte  went  to  her  room,  she  thought :  "  There  is 
trouble  ahead  ;  yet  if  I  do  have  to  suffer  a  little,  it  won't 
hurt  me.  Marius  does  not  complain,  though,  for  my  sake, 
he  gives  up  his  dearest  hopes,  enters  the  employ  of  M. 
Marcolet,  he  so  proud  and  so  disinterested,  and  thinks  of 
nothing  but  making  money  !  " 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte's  anticipations  were  but  too  soon 
realised.  When  M.  Favoral  made  his  appearance  the 
next  morning,  he  had  the  sombre  brow  and  contracted  lips 
of  a  man  who  has  spent  the  night  ruminating  a  plan  from 
which  he  does  not  mean  to  swerve.  Instead  of  going  to 
his  office,  as  usual,  without  saying  a  word  to  any  one,  he 
called  his  wife  and  children  into  the  drawing-roorn.  After 
having  carefully  locked  all  the  doors,  he  said  to  Maxence  : 
"  I  want  you  to  give  me  a  list  of  your  creditors.  See 
that  you  forget  none  ;  and  let  it  be  ready  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible." 

But  Maxence  was  no  longer  the  same.  After  the  well- 
deserved  reproaches  of  his  sister,  a  salutary  change  had 
taken  place  in  him.  During  the  preceding' night,  he  had 
reflected  over  his  conduct  of  the  past  four  years ;  and  he 
had  been  dismayed  and  terrified.  His  impression  had 
been  like  that  of  the  drunkard,  who,  having  become  sober, 
remenibers  the  ridiculous  or  degrading  ?^cts  which  he  has 
committed  while  under  the  influence      alcohol,  and,  con- 


74 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


fused  and  humiliated,  swears  to  reform.  Thus  Maxence 
had  sworn  to  himself  to  change  his  mode  of  life,  promis- 
ing that  it  should  be  no  drunkard's  oath,  either.  His 
attitude  and  his  look  showed  the  pride  of  a  great  resolu- 
tion. Instead  of  lowering  his  eyes  before  M.  Favoral's 
irritated  glance,  and  stammering  excuses  and  vague  prom- 
ises, he  replied  :  It  is  useless,  father,  to  give  you  the  list 
you  ask  for.  I  am  old  enough  to  bear  the  responsibility 
of  my  acts.  I  will  repair  my  follies  :  what  I  owe  I  will 
pay.  This  very  day,  I  will  see  my  creditors,  and  make 
arrangements  with  them.^' 

"  Very  well,  Maxence,'^  exclaimed  Madame  Favoral,  de- 
lighted. 

But  there  was  no  pacifying  the  old  cashier.  That  is 
all  very  fine,"  he  said  with  a  sneer  ;  "  but  I  doubt  if  the 
tailors  and  the  shirt-makers  will  be  satisfied.  I  insist 
therefore  upon  having  that  list." 

"  Still—" 

It's  I  who  shall  pay.  I  do  not  intend  to  have  another 
scene  like  that  of  yesterday  in  my  office.  It  must  not  be 
said  that  my  son  is  a  swindler  at  the  very  moment  when  I 
find  a  most  unhoped-for  match  for  my  daughter.  For  I 
suppose  you  have  got  over  your  foolish  ideas,"  said  he, 
turning  to  Mademoiselle  Gilberte. 

The  young  girl  shook  her  head,  and  replied :  "  My  ideas 
are  the  same  as  they  were  last  night." 

"  Ah,  ha  !  " 

"And  so,  father,  I  beg  of  you,  do  not  insist.  Why 
wrangle  and  quarrel  ?  You  must  know  me  well  enough  to 
feel  sure,  that,  whatever  may  happen,  I  shall  never  yield." 

Indeed,  M.  Favoral  was  well  aware  of  his,  daughter's 
firmness  ;  for  he  had  already  been  compelled  on  several 
occasions,  as  he  himself  expressed  it,  "  to  strike  his  flag" 
before  her.  But  he  could  not  believe  that  she  would  re- 
sist when  he  took  certain  means  of  enforcing  his  will. 

"  I  have  pledged  my  word,"  he  said. 

"  But  I  have  not  pledged  mine,  father." 

He  was  becoming  excited ;  his  cheeks  were  flushed,  and 
his  little  eyes  sparkled.  "  And  suppose  I  were  to  tell  you," 
he  resumed,  doing  his  daughter  at  least  the  honour  of  con- 
trolling his  anger,  "  suppose  I  were  to  tell  you  that  this 
marriage  would  procure  me  immense,  positive,  and  im' 
mediate  advantages  ?  " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


75 


"  Oh ! she  interrupted  with  a  look  of  disgust,  "  oh,  foj 
mercy's  sake  !  " 

"  Suppose  I  were  to  tell  you  that  I  have  a  great  desire 
for  it ;  that  it  is  indispensable  to  the  success  of  vast  com- 
binations ?  " 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  looked  straight  at  him.  "I 
would  answer  you,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that  it  does  not  suit 
me  to  be  made  use  of  as  an  earnest  to  your  combinations. 
Ah !  it's  an  operation,  is  it  ?  an  enterprise,  a  big  specula- 
tion ?  and  you  throw  your  daughter  into  the  bargain  as  a 
sort  of  bonus.  Well,  no  !  Y ou  can  tell  your  partner  that  the 
affair  has  fallen  through." 

M.  Favoral's  anger  was  growing  with  each  word.  I'll 
see  if  I  can't  make  you  yield,"  he  cried 

You  may  crush  me,  perhaps.    Make  me  yield,  never  !  " 

"  Well,  we  shall  see.  You  shall  see  ! — Maxence  and 
you — whether  there  are  no  means  by  which  a  father  can 
compel  his  rebellious  children  to  submit  to  his  authority." 
And,  feeling  that  he  was  no  longer  master  of  himself,  he 
left  the  room,  swearing  he  would  be  obeyed. 

Maxence  shook  with  indignation.  Never,"  he  ex- 
claimed, "  never  until  now,  have  I  understood  the  infamy 
of  my  conduct.  With  a  father  such  as  ours,  Gilberte,  I 
should  be  your  protector.  And  now  I  have  no  right  even 
to  interfere.  But  wait  a  little,  I  am  determined  that  all 
shall  soon  be  repaired." 

Left  alone,  a  few  moments  after,  Gilberte  congratulated 
herself  upon  her  firmness.  I  am  sure,"  thought  she, 
Marius  would  approve,  if  he  knew."  She  had  not  ionK 
to  wait  for  her  reward.  The  bell  rang  :  it  was  her  old  pro- 
fessor. Signer  Gismondo  Pulci,  who  came  to  give  her  liei 
daily  lesson.  The  liveliest  joy  beamed  upon  his  counte- 
nance more  shrivelled  than  an  apple  at  Easter ;  and  the  most 
splendid  anticipations  sparkled  in  his  eyes.  I  knew  it, 
signorina  !  "  he  exclaimed  from  the  threshold  :  "  I  knew 
that  angels  bring  good  luck.  As  everything  succeeds  to 
you,  so  must  everything  succeed  to  those  who  come  neai 
you." 

She  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  appropriateness  of  the 
compliment.  Something  fortunate  has  happened  to  you, 
dear  master  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  That  is  to  say,  I  am  on  the  high  road  to  l*;:)rtune  and 


7^  0  THER  PE OPLE'S  MONE  Y 

glory,"  he  replied.  My  fame  is  extending ;  pupils  dis 
pute  the  privilege  of  sharing  my  lessons." 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  knew  too  well  the  thoroughly  Ital- 
ian exaggeration  of  the  worthy  maestro  to  be  at  all  sur- 
prised. 

"This  morning,"  he  continued,  "I  had  risen  early,  and 
I  was  working  with  marvellous  facility,  when  there  was  a 
knock  at  my  door.  I  do  not  remember  such  an  occur- 
rence since  the  blessed  day  when  your  worthy  father  called 
for  me.  Surprised,  I  nevertheless  cried,  '  Come  in  ;  ' 
when  there  appeared  a  tall  and  robust  young  man,  proud 
and  intelligent-looking." 

The  young  girl  started.  Marius  !  "  cried  a  voice  within 
her. 

"This  young  man/'  continued  the  old  Italian,  "had 
heard  me  spoken  of,  and  came  to  apply  for  lessons.  I 
questioned  him  ;  and  from  "the  first  words  I  discovered 
that  his  education  had  been  frightfully  neglected,  that  he 
was  ignorant  of  the  most  vulgar  notions  of  the  divine  art, 
and  that  he  scarcely  knew  the  difference  between  a  sharp  and 
a  quaver.  It  was  really  the  A,  B,  C,  which  he  wished  me 
to  teach  him.  Laborious  task,  ungrateful  labour !  But 
he  manifested  so  much  shame  at  his  ignorance,  and  so 
much  desire  to  be  instructed,  that  I  felt  moved  in  his  fa- 
vour. Then  his  countenance  was  most  winning,  his  voice 
of  a  superior  tone  ;  and  finally  he  offered  me  sixty  francs 
a  month.    In  short,  he  is  now  my  pupil." 

As  well  as  she  could.  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  was  hiding 
her  blushes  behind  a  music-book. 

"  We  remained  over  two  hours  talking,"  said  the  good 
and  simple  maestro,  "  and  I  believe  that  he  has  a  great  in- 
clination to  learn.  Unfortunately,  he  can  only  take  two 
lessons  a  week.  Although  a  nobleman,  he  works  :  and, 
when  he  took  off  his  glove  to  hand  me  a  month's  salary  in 
advance,  I  noticed  that  one  of  his  hands  was  blackened, 
and  as  if  burnt  by  some  acid.  But  never  mind,  signorina, 
sixty  francs  a  month,  together  with  what  your  worthy  father 
gives  me,  is  a  fortune.  The  end  of  my  career  will  be 
spared  the  privations  of  its  commencement.  The  sunrise 
was  overcast :  but  the  sunset  will  be  glorious." 

The  young  girl  could  no  longer  have  any  doubts :  M.  de 
Tregars  had  found  the  means  of  hearing  of  her,  and  letting 
her  hear  of  him.    The  impression  she  felt  contributed  na 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  AfOJVEV, 


77 


little  to  give  her  sufficient  patience  to  endure  her  father's 
obstinate  persecution  ;  for  he  never  failed  to  say  to  her,  at 
least  twice  a  day :  "  Get  ready  to  properly  receive  your  in 
tended  on  Saturday.  I  have  not  invited  him  to  dinner ;  he 
will  only  spend  the  evening  with  us."  And  he  mistook 
for  a  disposition  to  yield  the  cold  tone  in  which  she  an- 
swered,— "  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  this  introduction  is 
wholly  unnecessary." 

Thus,  the  famous  day  having  come,  he  said  to  his  usual 
Saturday  guests,  M.  and  Madame  Desclavettes,  M.  Chape- 
lain,  and  old  Desormeaux :  "  Eh,  eh !  you  will  probably 
see  a  future  son-in-law !  "  At  nine  o'clock,  just  as  they 
had  passed  into  the  drawing-room,  the  sound  of  carriage- 
wheels  startled  the  Rue  St.  Gilles.  "  There  he  is  !  "  ex- 
claimed  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank.  And, 
throwing  open  a  window, — "Come,  Gilberte,"  he  added^ 
"come  and  see  his  carriage  and  horses." 

She  never  stirred ;  but  M.  Desclavettes  and  M,  Chape* 
lain  both  ran  and  looked  out.  It  was  dark,  unfortunately, 
and  of  ths  whole  equipage  nothing  was  visible  but  the  twc, 
lanterns  thr.t  shone  like  stars.  Almost  at  the  same  time  the^ 
drawing-room  door  was  opened,  and  the  servant,  who  had 
been  properly  trained  in  advance,  announced  :  "  M.  Cos  - 
teclar." 

Leaning  towards  Madame  Favoral,  who  was  seated  by 
her  side  on  the  sofa,  Madame  Desclavettes  whispered  : 
"A  nice-looking  man,  isn't  he?  a  very  nice-looking 
man." 

And  indeed  he  really  thought  so  himself.  Gesture,  atti- 
tude, smile,  everything  in  M.  Costeclar,  betrayed  the  sat- 
isfaction of  self,  and  the  assurance  of  a  man  accustomed 
to  success.  His  head,  which  was  very  small,  had  but  lit- 
tle hair  left ;  but  what  there  was  was  artistically  drawn  to- 
wards the  temples,  parted  in  the  middle,  and  cut  short 
around  the  forehead.  His  leaden  complexion,  his  pale  lips, 
and  his  dull  eyes,  did  not  certainly  betray  a  very  rich 
blood ;  he  had,  too,  a  great  long  nose,  sharp  and  curved 
like  a  sickle  ;  and  his  beard,  of  undecided  colour,  trimmed 
in  the  Victor  Emmanuel  style,  did  the  greatest  hon- 
our to  the  barber  who  cultivated  it.  Even  when  seen  for 
the  first  time,  one  might  fancy  one  recognised  him,  so  ex- 
actly was  he  like  three  or  four  hundred  others  who  are 
seen  daily  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Cafe  Riche ;  who 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


are  met  everywhere  where  people  wno  pretend  to  amuse 
themselves  congregate  :  at  the  Bourse,  or  in  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne  ;  on  first  nights  at  the  theatres,  where  they  are 
just  enough  hidden  to  be  perfectly  well  seen  at  the  backs 
of  boxes  filled  with  young  ladies  with  astonishing  chignons  ; 
at  the  races,  in  carriages,  where  they  drink  champagne  to 
the  health  of  the  winner.  He  had  on  this  occasion  assumed 
his  best  looks,  and  donned  his  full  dress :  dress-coat 
with  wide  sleeves,  shirt  cut  low  in  the  neck,  and  open 
waistcoat  fastened  below  the  waist  by  a  single  button. 

Quite  a  man  of  the  world,"  again  remarked  Madame 
Desclavettes. 

M.  Favoral  rushed  towards  him,  but  he,  hastening,  met 
the  cashier  half-way,  and,  taking  both  his  hands  in  his, 
"  I  cannot  tell  you,  dear  friend,"  he  commenced,  how 
deeply  I  feel  the  honour  you  do  me  in  receiving  me  in  the 
midst  of  your  charming  family  and  your  worthy  friends." 
And  he  bowed  all  round  during  his  speech,  which  he  deliv- 
ered in  the  condescending  tone  of  a  lord  visiting  his  in- 
feriors. 

"  Let  me  introduce  you  to  my  wife,"  interrupted  the 
cashier.    And,  leading  him  towards   Madame  Favoral, 

M.  Costeclar,  my  dear,"  he  continued,  "the  friend  of 
whom  we  have  so  often  spoken." 

M.  Costeclar  bowed,  rounding  his  shoulders,  bending 
his  lean  form  in  a  half-circle,  and  letting  his  arms  hang  for- 
ward. "  I  am  too  much  the  friend  of  our  dear  Favoral, 
madame,"  he  said,  "  not  to  have  heard  of  you  long  since, 
nor  to  know  your  merits,  and  the  fact  that  he  owes  to  you 
that  peaceful  happiness  which  he  enjoys,  and  which  we  all 
envy  him." 

Standing  by  the  mantelpiece,  the  usual  Saturday-even- 
ing guests  followed  with  the  liveliest  interest  the  evolu- 
tions of  the  pretender.  Two  of  them,  M.  Chapelain  and 
old  Desormeaux,  were  perfectly  able  to  appreciate  him  at 
his  just  value  ;  but,  in  affirming  that  he  made  half  a  mill- 
ion a  year,  M.  Favoral  had,  as  it  were,  thrown  over  his 
shoulders  that  famous  ducal  cloak  which  concealed  all  de- 
formities. Without  waiting  for  his  wife's  answer,  M. 
Favoral  brought  his  friend  in  front  of  Mademoiselle  Gil- 
berts *^  Dear  daughter,"  said  he,  "M.  Costeclar,  the 
friend  of  whom  I  have  spoken." 

M.  Costeclar  bowed  still  lower,  and  rounded  off  his 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


79 


shoulders  again  ;  but  the  young  lady  looked  at  him  from 
head  to  foot  with  such  a  freezing  glance,  that  his  tongue 
remained  as  if  paralysed  in  his  mouth,  and  he  could  only 
stammer  out,  "  Mademoiselle  ! — the  honour — the  humblest 
of  your  admirers — " 

Fortunately  Maxence  was  standing  three  steps  off ;  he 
fell  back  in  good  order  upon  him,  and  seizing  his  hand, 
which  he  shook  vigorously,  "  I  hope,  my  dear  sir,  that  we 
shall  soon  be  quite  intimate  friends.  Your  excellent 
father,  whose  special  concern  you  are,  has  often  spoken  to 
me  of  you.  Events,  so  he  has  confided  to  me,  have  not 
hitherto  responded  to  your  expectations.  At  your  age, 
this  is  not  a  very  grave  matter.  People,  now-a-days,  do 
not  always  find  at  the  first  attempt  the  road  that  leads  to 
fortune.  You  will  find  yours.  From  this  time  forth  I 
place  at  your  disposal  my  influence  and  my  experience  ; 
and,  if  you  will  consent  to  take  me  for  your  guide — 

Maxence  had  withdrawn  his  hand,  I  am  very  much 
obliged  to  you,  sir,''*  he  answered  coldly  ;  but  I  am  content 
with  my  lot,  and  I  believe  myself  old  enough  to  walk 
alone." 

Almost  any  one  would  have  lost  countenance.  But  M. 
Costeclar  was  so  little  put  out,  that  it  seemed  as  though  he 
had  expected  just  such  a  reception.  He  turned  upon  his 
heels,  and  advanced  towards  M.  Favoral's  friends  with 
a  smile  so  engaging  as  to  make  it  evident  that  he  was 
anxious  to  gain  their  suffrages.  This  was  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  month  of  June,  1870,  No  one  as  yet  could 
foresee  the  frightful  disasters  which  were  to  mark  the  end 
of  that  fatal  year.  And  yet  there  was  everywhere  in 
France  that  indefinable  anxiety  which  precedes  great 
social  convulsions.  The  plebiscitum  had  not  succeeded  in 
restoring  confidence.  Every  day  the  most  alarming  ru- 
mours were  put  in  circulation  ;  and  it  was  with  a  sort  of 
passion  that  people  went  in  quest  of  news.  Now,  M.  Cos- 
teclar was  a  wonderfully  well-posted  man.  He  had, 
doubtless,  on  his  way,  stopped  on  the  Boulevard  des  Ital- 
iens,  at  that  spot  where  the  street-brokers  labour  nightly 
for  the  financial  prosperity  of  the  country.  He  had  looked 
into  the  Passage  de  I'Opera,  which  is,  as  is  well  known, 
the  best  market  for  the  most  correct  and  the  most  reliable 
news.  Therefore  he  might  safely  be  believed.  Placing 
his  back  to  the  mantelpiece,  he  took  the  lead  in  the  con- 


8o 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


versation  ;  and  he  kept  talking,  talking,  talking.  Being  a 
"  bull,"  he  took  a  favourable  view  of  everything.  He  bC"* 
heved  in  the  eternity  of  the  Second  Empire.  He  sang  the 
praises  of  the  new  cabinet ;  he  was  ready  to  shed  his 
blood  for  Emile  Ollivier.  True,  some  people  complained 
that  business  was  dull  and  slow ;  but  those  people,  he 
thought,  were  merely  "  bears."  Business  had  never  been 
so  brilliant.  At  no  time  had  prosperity  been  greater. 
Capital  was  abundant.  Securities  were  rising.  Every- 
body's pockets  were  full  to  bursting.  And  the  others  lis- 
tened in  astonishment  to  this  inexhaustible  prattle,  this 
"  gab,"  more  laden  with  gold  spangles  than  Dantzig  cor- 
dial, with  which  the  commercial  travellers  of  the  Bourse 
catch  their  customers.  Suddenly,- — "  But  you  must  excuse 
me,"  he  said,  rushing  towards  the  other  end  of  the  draw- 
ing-room. Madam  Favoral  had  just  gone  out  to  order  tea 
to  be  brought  in  ;  and,  the  seat  next  to  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte  being  vacant,  M.  Costeclar  occupied  it  promptly. 

He  understands  his  business,"  growled  M.  Desor- 
meaux. 

"  Really,"  said  M.  Desclavettes,  if  I  had  some  funds 
to  dispose  of  just  now — " 

"  I  would  be  most  happy  to  have  him  for  my  son-in-law," 
declared  M.  Favoral. 

He  was  doing  his  best.  Somewhat  intimidated  by  Mad- 
emoiselle Gilberte's  first  look,  he  had  now  fully  recovered 
his  wits.  He  commenced  by  sketching  his  own  portrait. 
He  had  just  turned  thirty,  and  had  experienced  the  strong 
and  the  weak  side  of  life.  He  had  had  successes,  but  had 
tired  of  them.  Having  gauged  the  emptiness  of  what  is 
called  pleasure,  he  only  wished  now  to  find  a  partner  for 
life,  whose  grace  and  virtue  would  secure  his  domestic 
happiness.  He  could  not  help  noticing  the  absent  look  of 
the  young  girl ;  but  he  had,  thought  he,  other  means  of 
compelling  her  attention.  And  he  went  on,  saying  that 
he  felt  himself  cast  of  the  metal  of  which  model  husbands 
are  made.  His  plans  were  all  made  in  advance.  His 
wife  would  be  free  to  do  as  she  pleased.  She  would  have 
her  own  carriage  and  horses,  her  box  at  the  Italian  opera, 
and  an  open  account  at  Worth's  and  Van  Klopen's.  As 
to  diamonds,  he  would  see  to  them.  He  meant  that  his 
wife's  display  of  wealth  should  be  noticed,  and  even 
spoken  of  in  the  newspapers. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


8l 


Were  these  the  terms  of  a  bargain  that  he  was  offering  ? 
If  so,  he  did  it  so  coarsely,  that  Gilberte,  ignorant  of  hfe 
as  she  was,  wondered  in  what  world  it  might  be  that  he 
had  met  with  his  successes.  And,  somewhat  indignantly, 
she  said  :  Unfortunately,  the  Bourse  is  perfidious  ;  and 
the  man  who  drives  his  own  carriage  to-day  rhay  have  no 
shoes  to  wear  to-morrow." 

M.  Costeclar  nodded  with  a  smile.  "  Exactly  so,"  said 
he.      A  marriage  protects  one  against  such  reverses." 

"  Ah  ? " 

"  When  a  man  in  active  business  marries,  he  settles 
upon  his  wife  a  reasonable  fortune.  I  intend  to  settle  six 
hundred  thousand  francs  upon  mine." 

"  So  that,  if  you  were  to  meet  with  an — accident  ?  " 

"  We  should  enjoy  our  thirty  thousand  francs  a  year  in 
spite  of  the  creditors." 

Blushing  with  shame,  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  rose. 
"  But  then,"  said  she,  "  it  is  not  a  wife  that  you  are  looking 
for,  it  is  an  accomplice  !  " 

He  was  spared  the  embarrassment  of  an  answer,  by  the 
entrance  of  the  servant,  bringing  in  tea.  He  accepted  a 
cup  ;  and  after  two  or  three  anecdotes,  judging  that  he 
had  done  enough  for  a  first  visit,  he  withdrew,  and  a  mo- 
ment later  they  heard  his  carriage  driving  off  at  a  full  gallop. 


XVI. 

It  was  not  without  mature  thought  that  M.  Costeclar 
had  determined  to  withdraw,  in  spite  of  M.  Favoral's  press- 
ing entreaties  to  remain.  However  infatuated  he  might 
be  with  his  own  merits,  he  had  been  compelled  to  surren- 
der to  evidence,  and  to  acknowledge  that  he  had  not  ex- 
actly succeeded  with  Mademoiselle  Gilberte.  But  he  also 
knew  that  he  had  the  head  of  the  family  on  his  side  ;  and 
he  flattered  himself  that  he  had  produced  an  excellent  im- 
pression upon  the  guests  of  the  house.  "  Therefore,"  had 
he  said  to  himself,  "  if  I  leave  first,  they  will  sing  my 
praises,  lecture  the  young  lady,  and  make  her  listen  to 
reason."  He  was  not  far  from  being  right.  Madame 
Desclavettes  had  been  completely  subjugated  by  the  grand 
manners  of  this  suitor  ;  and  M.  Desclavettes  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  affirm  that  he  had  rarely  met  any  one  who  pleased 
6 


82 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


him  more.  The  others,  M.  Chapelain  and  old  Desor- 
meaux,  did  not,  doubtless,  share  this  optimism  ;  but  M.  Cos- 
teclar's  annual  half-million  singularly  obscured  their  per- 
spicacity. They  may  have  thought  they  had  discovered  in 
him  some  alarming  features  ;  yet  they  had  such  full  and 
entire  confidence  in  their  friend  Favoral's  prudejit  sagac- 
ity, that  they  did  not  entertain  them  for  long.  The  par- 
ticular and  methodic  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank 
was  not  apt  to  be  enthusiastic  ;  and,  if  he  opened  the 
doors  of  his  house  to  a  young  man,  if  he  was  so  anxious  to 
have  him  for  his  son-in-law,  he  must  evidently  have  taken 
ample  mformation.  Finally,  there  are  certain  family  mat- 
ters from  which  sensible  people  keep  away  as  they  would 
from  the  plague  ;  and,  in  a  question  of  marriage  especially, 
he  is  a  bold  man  who  would  take  side  for  or  against. 

Thus  Madame  Desclavettes  was  the  only  one  to  raise 
her  voice  on  the  subject.  Taking  Gilberte's  hands  within 
hers,  she  said  :  "  Let  me  scold  you,  my  dear,  for  having 
received  thus  a  poor  young  man  who  was  only  trying  to 
please  you." 

Excepting  her  mother,  too  weak  to  take  her  defense, 
and  her  brother,  who  was  debarred  from  interfering,  the 
young  girl  readily  understood,  that,  in  that  room,  every 
one  was  overtly  or  tacitly  against  her.  The  idea  came  to 
her  mind  to  repeat  there  boldly  what  she  had  already  told 
her  father,  that  she  was  resolved  not  to  marry,  and  that 
she  would  not  marry,  not  being  one  of  those  weak  girls, 
without  energy,  who  are  dressed  in  white,  and  dragged  to 
church  against  their  will.  Such  a  bold  declaration  would 
be  in  keeping  with  her  character.  But  she  feared  a  terri- 
ble, and  perhaps  degrading  scene.  The  most  intimate 
friends  of  the  family  were  ignorant  of  its  most  painful  sores. 
In  presence  of  his  guests,  M.  Favoral  dissembled,  speak- 
ing in  a  mild  voice,  and  assuming  a  kindly  smile.  Should 
she  suddenly  reveal  the  truth  ? 

"  It  is  childish  of  you  to  run  the  risk  of  discouraging  a 
clever  fellow  who  makes  half  a  million  a  year,''  continued 
the  wife  of  the  old  bronze-merchant,  to  whom  such  conduct 
seemed  an  abominable  crime  against  money. 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  had  withdrawn  her  hands.  "  You 
did  not  hear  what  he  said,  madame." 

I  beg  your  pardon :  I  was  quite  near,  and  involun^ 
taril}^ — " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


83 


"  You  heard  his — propositions  ?  " 

"  Perfectly.  He  was  promising  you  a  carriage,  a  box 
at  the  opera,  diamonds,  freedom.  Isn't  that  the  dream  of 
all  young  ladies  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  mine,  madame  ! 

"  Dear  me  !  What  else  can  you  wish  ?  You  must  not 
expect  more  from  a  husband  than  he  can  possibly  give.'' 

"  That  is  not  what  I  should  expect  of  him." 

"  She  is  mad,"  suggested  M.  Favoral  in  a  tone  of  pater- 
nal indulgence,  which  his  looks  belied. 

Tears  of  mdignation  filled  Gilberte's  eyes.  "  Madame 
Desclavettes,"  she  exclaimed,  "  forgets  something.  She 
forgets  that  this  gentleman  dared  to  tell  me  that  he  intends 
to  settle  upon  the  woman  he  marries  a  large  fortune,  of 
which  his  creditors  would  thus  be  cheated  should  he  fail 
in  business." 

She  thought,  in  her  simplicity,  that  a  cry  of  indignation 
would  rise  at  these  words.  Instead  of  which,  M.  Descla- 
vettes observed  :     Well,  isn't  it  perfectly  natural !  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  more  than  natural,"  insisted  Madame 
Desclavettes,  "  that  a  man  should  be  anxious  to  preserve 
his  wife  and  children  from  ruin." 

"  Of  course,"  put  in  M.  Favoral. 

"Have  you,  then,  taken  such  piecautions  yourself?" 
asked  Gilberte,  stepping  resolutely  towards  her  father. 

"  No,"  answered  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank, 
And,  after  a  moment  of  hesitation,  he  added  :  "  But  I  an) 
running  no  risks.  In  business,  and  when  a  man  may  be 
ruined  by  a  mere  rise  or  fall  in  stocks,  he  would  be  insane 
indeed  did  he  not  secure  bread  for  his  family,  and  above 
all,  means  for  himself,  wherewith  to  commence  again. 
The  Baron  de  Thaller  did  not  act  otherwise ;  and,  should 
he  meet  with  a  disaster,  Madame  de  Thaller  would  still 
have  a  handsome  fortune." 

M.  Desormeaux  was,  perhaps,  the  only  one  not  to  admit 
that  theory  freely,  and  not  to  accept  that  ever-decisive 
reason,  "  Others  do  it."  But  he  was  a  philosopher,  and 
thought  it  silly  not  to  be  of  his  time.  He  therefore  con- 
tented himself  with  saying  :  "  H'm  !  M.  de  Thaller's  credit- 
ors might  not  think  that  mode  of  proceeding  entirely 
regular." 

"  Then  they  might  sue,"  said  M.  Chapelain,  laughing. 


84 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  People  can  always  sue ;  only  when  the  documents  are 
well  drawn  up — 

Gilberte  stood  dismayed.  She  thought  of  Marius  de 
Tregars  giving  up  his  mother's  fortune  to  pay  his  father's 
debts.  "  What  would  he  say,"  thought  she,  "  should  he 
hear  such  opinions  !  " 

The  cashier  resumed :  "  I  most  decidedly  blame  every 
species  of  fraud.  But  I  pretend,  and  I  maintain,  that  a 
man  who  has  worked  twenty  years  to  give  a  handsome 
dowry  to  his  daughter,  has  the  right  to  demand  of  his  son- 
in-law  certain  conservative  measures  to  guarantee  the 
money  which,  after  all,  is  his  own,  and  which  should  bene- 
fit none  but  his  own  family.*' 

This  declaration  put  an  end  to  the  discussion.  It  was 
getting  late.  The  Saturday  guests  put  on  their  overcoats  ; 
and,  as  they  were  walking  home,  Madame  Desclavettes  ob- 
served :  "  Can  you  understand  that  little  Gilberte  1  I'd 
like  to  see  a  daughter  of  mine  have  such  fancies !  But 
her  poor  mother  is  so  weak !  " 

"  Yes ;  but  friend  Favoral  is  firm  enough  for  both,"  in- 
terrupted M.  Desormeaux  ;  "  and  it  is  more  than  probable 
that  at  this  very  moment  he  is  correcting  his  daughter  for 
the  sin  of  idleness." 

But  he  was  mistaken.  Extremely  angry  as  M.  Favoral 
must  have  been,  neither  that  evening,  nor  the  next  day, 
did  he  make  the  remotest  allusion  to  what  had  taken  place. 
The  following  Monday  only,  before  leaving  for  his  office, 
casting  upon  his  wife  and  daughter  one  of  his  ugliest  looks, 
he  said :  "  M.  Costeclar  owes  us  a  visit,  and  it  is  possible 
that  he  may  call  in  my  absence.  I  wish  him  to  be  admit- 
ted;  and  I  forbid  you  to  go  out,  so  that  you  can  have  no 
pretext  to  refuse  him  the  door.  I  presume  there  will  not 
be  found  in  my  house  any  one  bold  enough  to  ill  receive 
a  man  whom  I  like,  and  whom  I  have  selected  for  my  son- 
in-law." 

But  was  it  probable,  was  it  even  possible,  that  M.  Coste- 
clar could  venture  upon  such  a  step  after  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte's  treatment  of  him  on  the  previous  Saturday  even- 
ing ?  "  No,  a  thousand  times  no  ! "  affirmed  Maxence 
to  his  mother  and  sister.      So  you  may  rest  easy." 

Indeed  they  tried  to,  until  that  very  afternoon  the  sound 
of  rapidly-rolling  wheels  attracted  Madame  Favoral  to 
the  window.    A  brougham,  drav;n  by  two  gray  horses^ 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


85 


had  just  stopped  at  the  door.  "  It  is  he,"  she  said  to  her 
daughter. 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  turned  slightly  pale.  *^  There  is 
no  help  for  it,  mother,"  she  said :  "  you  must  receive 
him." 

"  And  you  ?  " 
I  shall  remain  in  my  room." 

"  Do  you  suppose  he  won't  ask  for  you  ?  " 

"  You  will  answer  that  I  am  unwell.  He  will  under- 
stand." 

"  But  your  father,  unhappy  child,  your  father  ?  " 
I  do  not  acknowledge  to  my  father  the  right  of  dispos- 
ing of  my  person  against  my  wishes.  I  detest  the  man  to 
whom  he  wishes  to  marry  me.  Would  you  like  to  see  me 
his  wife,  to  know  me  given  up  to  the  most  intolerable  tor- 
ture ?  No,  there  is  no  violence  in  the  world  that  will  ever 
wring  my  consent  from  me.  So,  mother  dear,  do  what  I 
ask  you.  My  father  can  say  what  he  pleases  ;  I  take  the 
whole  responsibility  upon  myself." 

There  was  no  time  to  argue :  the  bell  rang.  Gilberte 
was  just  able  to  escape  through  one  of  the  doors  of  the 
drawing-room,  whilst  M.  Costeclar  was  entering  by  the 
other. 

If  he  did  have  enough  perspicacity  to  guess  what  had 
just  taken  place,  he  did  not  show  it  in  any  way.  He  sat 
down  ;  and  it  was  only  after  conversing  for  a  few  moments 
upon  indifferent  subjects,  that  he  asked  how  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte  was. 

"  She  is  not  very  well,"  stammered  Madame  Favoral. 

He  did  not  appear  surprised ;  but  only  said  :  "  Our  dear 
Favoral  will  be  still  more  pained  than  I  am  when  I  tell 
him  of  this  mishap." 

Better  than  any  mother,  Madame  Favoral  must  have 
understood  and  approved  Gilberte's  invincible  repugnance. 
To  her  also,  when  she  was  young,  her  father  had  come 
one  day,  and  said,  "  I  have  discovered  a  husband  for  you." 
She  had  accepted  him  blindly.  Bruised  and  wounded  by 
daily  outrages,  she  had  sought  refuge  in  marriage  as  in  a 
haven  of  safety.  And,  ever  since,  hardly  a  day  had  elapsed 
that  she  had  not  thought  it  would  have  been  better  for  her 
to  have  died  rather  than  to  have  riveted  to  her  neck  those 
fetters  that  death  alone  can  remove.  She  thought,  there- 
fore, that  her  daughter  was  perfectly  right.     And  yet 


86 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


twenty  years  of  slavery  nad  so  weakened  the  springs  of  bet 
energy,  that,  under  the  glance  of  M.  Costeclar,  who  threat- 
ened her  with  her  husband's  name,  she  felt  embarrassed, 
and  could  scarcely  stammer  some  timid  excuses.  And  she 
allowed  him  to  prolong  his  visit,  and  consequently  her  own 
torment,  for  over  half-an-hour ;  then,  when  he  had  gone, 
she  said  to  her  daughter  :  He  and  your  father  under- 
stand  each  other,  that  is  but  too  evident.  What  is  the  use 
of  struggling  ? 

A  fugitive  blush  coloured  Gilberte's  pale  cheeks. 
For  the  past  forty-eight  hours  she  had  been  seeking  an  issue 
to  an  impossible  situation ;  and  she  had  accustomed  her 
mind  to  the  worst  eventualities.  "Do  you  wish  me,  then, 
to  desert  the  paternal  roof  ? she  exclaimed. 

Madame  Favoral  almost  dropped  on  the  floor.  "  You 
would  run  away,''  she  stammered,    you  ! — " 

"  Rather  than  become  that  man's  wife,  yes  !  " 

"  And  where  w^ould  you  go,  unfortunate  child  ?  what 
what  would  you  do  ? " 

"  I  can  earn  my  living." 

Madame  Favoral  shook  her  head  sadly.  The  same  sus- 
picions that  she  had  felt  once  before  were  reviving  within 
her.  "  Gilberte,"  she  said  in  a  beseeching  tone,  "  am  I, 
then,  no  longer  your  best  friend  t  and  will  you  not  tell  me 
from  what  sources  you  draw  your  courage  and  your  reso- 
lution ?  "  And,  as  her  daughter  said  nothing,  God  alone 
knows  what  may  happen  !  "  sighed  the  poor  woman. 

Nothing  happened,  but  what  could  have  been  easily 
foreseen.  When  M.  Favoral  came  home  to  dinner,  he  was 
whistling  a  perfect  storm  as  he  mounted  the  stairs.  He 
abstained  at  first  from  all  recrimination ;  but  tov/ards  the 
end  of  the  meal,  with  the  most  sarcastic  look  he  could 
assume,  "  It  seems,"  he  said  to  his  daughter,  that  you 
were  unwell  this  afternoon  ?  " 

Bravely,  and  without  flinching,  she  sustained  his  look  ; 
and,  in  a  firm  voice,  she  replied  :  "  I  shall  always  be  indis- 
posed when  M.  Costeclar  calls.  You  understand  me, 
father,  do  you  not — always  !  " 

But  the  cashier  was  not  one  of  those  men  whose  wrath 
finds  vent  in  mere  sarcasms.  Rising  suddenly  to  his  feet, 
— "  By  the  holy  heavens  !  "  he  screamed  forth,  "  you  are 
wrong  to  trifle  thus'  with  my  will  ;  for,  all  of  you  here,  I 
shall  crush  you  as  I  do  this  glass."    And,  with  a  frenzied 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


87 


gesture,  he  dashed  the  glass  he  held  in  his  hand  against 
the  wall,  where  it  broke  in  a  thousand  pieces.  Trembling 
like  a  leaf,  Madame  Favoral  staggered  upon  her  chair, 

"  Better  kill  her  at  once,"  said  Mademoiselle  Gilberte 
coldy.    "  She  w^ould  suffer  less." 

It  was  by  a  torrent  of  invective  that  M.  Favoral  replied. 
His  rage,  dammed  up  for  the  past  four  days,  finding  at  last 
an  outlet,  flowed  in  gross  insults  and  insane  threats.  He 
spoke  of  turning  his  wife  and  children  into  the  street,  or 
starving  them  out,  or  shutting  up  his  daughter  in  a  house 
of  correction  ;  until  at  last,. language  failing  his  fury,  and 
utterly  beside  himself,  he  left,  swearing  that  he  himself 
would  bring  M.  Costeclar  back,  and  then  they  w^ould  see. 

"  Very  well,  we  shall  see,"  said  Mademoiselle  Gilberte. 

Motionless  in  his  place,  and  white  as  a  plaster  cast, 
Maxence  had  witnessed  this  lamentable  scene.  A  gleam 
of  common-sense  had  enabled  him  to  control  his  indigna  - 
tion, and  to  remain  silent.  He  had  understood,  that,  at 
the  first  word,  his  father's  fury  would  have  turned  all 
against  him  ;  and  then  what  might  have  happened  ?  The 
most  frightful  dramas  of  tlie  criminal  courts  have  often  had 
no  other  origin.  No,  this  is  no  longer  bearable  !  "  he 
exclaimed.  Even  at  the  time  of  his  greatest  follies,  Max- 
ence had  always  entertained  a  great  affection  for  his  sister. 
He  admired  her  from  the  day  she  had  stood  up  before  him 
to  reproach  him  for  his  misconduct.  He  envied  her  her 
quiet  determination,  her  patient  tenacity,  and  that  calm 
energy  that  never  failed  her.  Have  patience,  my  poor 
Gilberte,"  he  said  :  the  day  is  not  far,  I  hope,  when  I  may 
commence  to  repay  you  all  you  have  done  forme.  I  have 
not  lost  my  time  since  you  restored  me  to  reason.  I  have 
arranged  with  my  creditors.  I  have  found  a  situation, 
which,  if  not  brilliant,  is  at  least  sufficiently  lucrative  to 
enable  me  before  long  to  offer  you,  as  well  as  to  our 
mother,  a  peaceful  retreat." 

"  But  it  is  to-morrow,"  interrupted  Madame  Favoral, 
"  to-morrow  that  your  father  is  to  bring  M.  Costeclar.  He 
said  so,  and  he  will  do  it." 

And  so  he  did.  About  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  M. 
Favoral  and  his  friend  arrived  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  in 
that  famous  brougham  with  the  two  horses,  which  excited 
the  wonder  of  the  neighbours.  But  Gilberte  had  her  plan 
ready.    She  was  on  the  look-out ;  and,  as  soon  as  she 


88 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


heard  the  carriage  stop,  she  ran  to  her  room,  undressed 
in  a  twinkling,  and  went  to  bed.  When  her  father  came 
for  her,  and  saw  her  in  bed,  he  stopped  surprised  and  puz- 
zled at  the  threshold  of  the  room.  "  You  will  come  into 
the  drawing-room  ?    he  said  in  a  hoarse  voice. 

"  Then  you  must  carry  me  there  as  I  am,"  she  replied 
in  a  tone  of  defiance  ;  for  I  shall  certainly  not  get 
up." 

For  the  first  time  since  his  marriage,  M.  Favoral  en- 
countered in  his  own  house  a  more  inflexible  will  than  his 
own,  and  a  more  unyielding  obstinacy.  He  was  baffled. 
He  threatened  his  daughter  with  his  clenched  fists,  but 
could  discover  no  means  of  making  her  obey.  He  was 
compelled  to  surrender,  to  yield.  "  This  shall  be  settled 
with  the  rest,"  he  growled,  as  he  went  out. 

I  fear  nothing  in  the  world,  father,"  said  the  girl. 

It  was  almost  true,  so  much  did  the  thought  of  Marius 
de  Tregars  inflame  her  courage.  Twice  already  she  had 
heard  from  him  through  Signor  Gismondo  Pulci,  who 
never  tired  of  talking  of  his  new  pupil,  to  whom  he  had 
already  given  two  lessons.  "  He  is  the  most  gallant  man  in 
the  world,"  he  said,  his  eyes  sparkling  with  enthusiasm, 
"  and  the  bravest,  and  the  most  generous,  and  the  best , 
and  no  quality  that  I  can  adorn  one  of  God's  creatures 
shall  be  wanting  in  him  when  I  have  taught  him  the  divine 
art.  It  is  not  with  a  little  contemptible  gold  that  he  means 
to  reward  my  zeal.  To  him  I  am  as  a  second  father  ;  and 
it  is  with  the  confidence  of  a  son  that  he  explains  to  me 
his  labours  and  his  hopes." 

Thus  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  learned,  through  the  old 
maestro,  that  the  newspaper  article  she  had  read  was 
almost  exactly  true,  and  that  M.  de  Tregars  and  M.  Mar- 
colet  had  become  associated  for  the  purpose  of  working, 
in  joint  account,  certain  recent  discoveries,  which  bid  fair 
to  yield  large  profits  in  a  near  future.  And  yet  it  is  for 
my  sake  alone  that  he  has  thus  thrown  himself  into  the 
turmoil  of  business,  and  has  become  as  eager  for  gain  as 
M.  Marcolet  himself,"  thought  Gilberte.  And,  at  the 
height  of  her  father's  persecutions,  she  felt  glad  of  what  she 
had  done,  and  of  her  boldness  in  placing  her  destiny  in 
the  hands  of  a  stranger.  Her  recollection  of  Marius  had  be- 
come her  refuge,  the  element  of  all  her  dreams  and  of  all 
her  hopes  ;  in  a  word,  her  life.    It  was  of  Marius  she  was 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


89 


thinking,  when  her  mother,  surprising  her  gazing  into 
vacancy,  would  ask  her,  "  What  are  you  thinking  of  ? 
And,  at  every  new  vexation  she  had  to  endure,  her  imagi- 
nation decked  him  with  a  new  quality,  and  she  clung  to 
him  with  a  more  desperate  grasp.  "  How  much  he  would 
grieve,'^  said  she  to  herself,  if  he  knew  of  what  persecu- 
tion I  am  the  object ! And  very  careful  was  she  iQOt  to 
allow  Signor  Gismondo  Pulci  to  suspect  anything  of  it, 
affecting,  on  the  contrary,  in  his  presence,  the  most  cheer- 
ful serenity.  And  yet  she  was  a  prey  to  the  most  cruel 
anxiety,  since  she  noticed  a  new  and  most  incredible  trans- 
formation in  her  father.  That  man,  so  violent  and  so 
harsh,  who  flattered  himself  never  to  have  been  bent,  who 
boasted  never  to  have  forgotten  or  forgiven  anything,  that 
domestic  tyrant,  had  become  quite  a  debonair  personage. 
He  refered  to  the  expedient  imagined  by  Gilberte  only  to 
laugh  at  it,  saying  that  it  was  a  good  trick,  and  he  de- 
served it ;  for  he  repented  bitterly,  he  protested,  his  past 
brutalities.  He  owned  that  he  had  at  heart  his  daughter's 
marriage  with  M.  Costeclar ;  but  he  acknowledged  that 
he  had  made  use  of  the  surest  means  for  making  it  fail. 
He  ought,  he  humbly  confessed,  to  have  expected  every- 
thing of  time  and  circumstances,  of  M.  Costeclar's  excel- 
lent qualities,  and  of  his  beautiful,  darling  daughter's  good 
sense. 

This  affected  good  nature  terrified  Madame  Favoral 
more  than  all  his  violence.  Dear  me  ! "  sighed  she, 
"  what  is  he  going  to  do  now  ? 


XVII. 

The  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank,  however,  was 
not  preparing  any  new  surprise  for  his  family.  Though 
the  means  were  different,  it  was  still  the  same  end  that 
he  was  pursuing  with  the  tenacity  of  an  insect.  Where 
severity  had  failed,  he  hoped  to  succeed  by  gentleness, 
and  that  was  all.  Only  this  assumption  of  hypocritical 
meekness  was  too  sudden  to  deceive  any  one.  Every  now 
and  then  the  mask  fell  off,  the  claws  showed,  and  his  voice 
trembled  with  ill-suppressed  rage  in  the  midst  of  his  most 
honeyed  phrases.  Moreover,  he  entertained  the  strangest 
illusions.    Because  for  forty-eight  hours  he  had  acted  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


part  of  a  good-natured  man,  because  one  Sunday  he  had 
taken  his  wife  and  daughter  out  for  a  drive  in  the  Bois  de 
Vincennes,  because  he  had  given  Maxence  a  hundred-franc 
note,  he  imagined  that  all  was  over,  that  the  past  was 
obliterated,  forgotten,  and  forgiven.  And,  drawing  Gil- 
berte  upon  his  knees,  he  said  :  "  Well,  little  girl,  you  see 
that  I  don't  importune  you  any  more,  and  I  leave  you 
quite  free.    I  am  more  reasonable  than  you  are.'' 

But  on  the  other  hand,  and  according  to  an  expression 
which  escaped  him  later  on,  he  was  trying  to  outflank  the 
enemy.  He  did  everything  in  his  power  to  spread  in  the 
neighbourhood  the  rumour  of  Mademoiselle  Gilberte's 
marriage  with  a  financier  of  colossal  wealth,  that  elegant 
young  man  who  always  came  in  a  brougham  drawn  by  two 
horses.  Madame  Favoral  could  not  enter  a  shop  without 
being  covertly  complimented  upon  having  found  such  a 
splendid  match  for  her  daughter. 

Loud,  indeed,  must  have  been  the  gossip,  for  its  echo 
reached  even  the  inattentive  ears  of  Signer  Gismondo 
Pulci.  One  day,  suddenly  interrupting  his  lesson,  he  ob- 
served :     You  are  going  to  be  married,  signorina  ?  " 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  started.  What  the  old  Italian 
had  heard,  he  would  surely  ere  long  repeat  to  Marius.  It 
was  therefore  urgent  to  undeceive  him.  "  It  is  true,"  she 
replied,  "  that  something  has  been  said  about  a  marriage, 
dear  maestro." 

"  Ah,  ah  ! 

"  Only  my  father  had  not  consulted  me.  That  marriage 
will  never  take  place;  I  swear  it."  She  expressed  her- 
self in  a  tone  of  such  ardent  conviction,  that  the  old  gen- 
tleman was  quite  astonished,  little  dreaming  that  it  was  not 
to  him  that  this  energetic  denial  was  addressed.  "  My 
destiny  is  irrevocably  fixed,"  added  Mademoiselle  Gilberte. 

When  I  marry  I  shall  consult  only  the  inspirations  of 
my  heart." 

However,  a  regular  conspiracy  was  formed  against  her. 
M.  Favoral  had  succeeded  in  interesting  his  habitual  guests 
in  the  success  of  his  designs ;  not  only  M.  and  Madame 
Desclavettes,  who  had  been  seduced  from  the  first,  but  M. 
Chapelain  and  old  Desormeaux  himself.  So  that  they  all 
vied  with  each  other  in  their  efforts  to  bring  the  dear 
child  "  to  reason,  and  to  enlighten  her  with  their  counsels. 
"  Father  must  have  a  greater  interest  in  this  alliance  than 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


91 


he  has  allowed  us  to  think,"  she  remarked  to  hei 
brother. 

Maxence  was  absolutely  of  the  same  opinion.  "  And 
then,'^  he  added,  our  father  must  be  terribly  rich  ;  for, 
do  not  deceive  yourself,  it  isn't  solely  for  your  pretty  blue 
eyes  that  this  Costeclar  persists  in  coming  here  twice  a 
week  to  pocket  a  fresh  mortification.  What  enormous 
dowry  can  he  be  hoping  for  ?  I  am  going  to  speak  to  him 
myself,  and  try  to  find  out  what  he  is  after." 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  though  had  but  slight  confi- 
dence in  her  brother's  diplomacy.  "  I  beg  of  you,"  she 
said,  "  don't  meddle  with  this  business  !  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  will  !    Fear  nothing,  I'll  be  prudent." 

Having  formed  this  resolution,  Maxence  placed  himself 
on  the  look-out ;  and  the  very  next  day,  as  M.  Costeclar 
was  stepping  out  of  his  carriage  at  the  door,  he  walked 
straight  up  to  him.  I  wish  to  speak  to  you,  sir,'^  he 
said. 

Self-possessed  as  he  was,  the  brilliant  financier  succeeded 
but  poorly  in  concealing  a  surprise  that  looked  very  much 
Hike  fright.  "  I  am  going  in  to  call  on  your  parents,  sir," 
he  replied  :  "  and  whilst  waiting  for  your  father,  with  whom 
I  have  an  appointment,  I  shall  be  at  your  commands." 

No,  no  !  "  interrupted  Maxence.  "  What  I  have  to 
say  must  be  heard  by  you  alone.  Come  along  this  way, 
and  we  shall  not  be  interrupted." 

And  he  led  M.  Costeclar  away  as  far  as  the  Place  Roy- 
ale.  Once  there, — "  You  are  very  anxious  to  marry  my 
sister,  sir,"  he  commenced. 

During  their  short  walk,  M.  Costeclar  had  recovered 
himself.  He  had  regained  all  his  impertinent  assurance. 
Looking  at  Maxence  from  head  to  foot  with  anything  but 
a  friendly  look,  he  replied  :  It  is  my  dearest  and  my 
most  ardent  wish,  sir." 

"  Very  well.  But  you  must  have  noticed  the  very  slight 
success,  to  use  no  harsher  term,  of  your  assiduities." 

"  Alas  !  " 

"  And,  perhaps,  you  will  think,  like  myself,  that  it  would 
be  the  act  of  a  gentleman  to  withdraw  in  presence  of  such 
positive — repugnance  1 " 

An  ugly  smile  was  wandering  upon  M.  Costeclar's  pale 
lips.  "  Is  it  at  the  request  of  your  sister,  sir,  that  you 
make  this  communication  ?  " 


92 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  No,  sir.'' 

Are  you  aware  whether  your  sister  has  some  prior  at- 
tachment that  may  be  an  obstacle  to  the  realisation  of  my 
hopes !  " 
"  Sir!" 

Excuse  me  !  My  words  are  in  no  way  offensive.  It 
might  very  well  be  that  your  sister,  before  I  had  the 
honour  of  being  introduced  to  her,  had  already  made  her 
choice." 

He  spoke  so  loud,  that  Maxence  looked  sharply  round 
to  see  whether  there  was  no  one  within  hearing.  He  only 
saw  a  young  man,  who  seemed  quite  absorbed  in  reading 
a  newspaper.  But,  sir,"  he  resumed,  "  what  would  you 
answer,  if  I,  the  brother  of  the  young  lady,  whom  you  wish 
to  marry  against  her  wishes,  called  upon  you  to  cease  your 
attentions  t  " 

M.Costeclar  bowed  ceremoniously.  "  I  would  answer  you, 
sir,"  he  replied,  "  that  your  father's  assent  is  sufficient  for  me. 
My  suit  is  strictly  honourable.  Your  sister  may  not  like 
me  :  that  is  a  misfortune  ;  but  it  is  not  irreparable.  When 
she  knows  me  better,  I  venture  to  hope  that  she  will  over- 
come her  unjust  prejudices.    Therefore  I  shall  persist." 

Maxence  said  no  more.  He  was  irritated  at  M.  Cos- 
teclar's  coolness  ;  but  it  was  not  his  intention  to  push 
things  further.  There  will  always  be  time,"  he  thought, 
"  to  resort  to  violent  measures."  But  when  he  reported 
this  conversation  to  his  sister, — "  It  is  clear,"  he  said,  that, 
between  our  father  and  that  man,  there  is  a  community  of 
interests  which  I  am  unable  to  discover.  What  business 
have  they  together  ?  In  what  respect  can  your  marriage 
either  help  or  injure  them  1  I  must  look  about,  try  and 
find  out  exactly  who  this  Costeclar  is  :  the  deuce  take 
him  !  " 

He  made  his  inquiries  the  same  day,  and  had  not  far  to 
go.  M.  Costeclar  was  one  of  those  personalities  w^hich 
only  bloom  in  Paris,  and  are  only  met  with  there.  He 
knew  everybody,  and  everylDody  knew  him.  He  was  w^ell 
known  on  the  Bourse,  in  all  the  principal  restaurants, 
where  he  called  the  waiters  by  their  christian  names,  at 
the  box-offices  of  the  theatres,  at  all  the  betting  agencies, 
and  at  the  Cercle  Europeen,  otherwise  called  the  Club  des 
Nomades,  of  which  he  was  a  member.  He  operated  on 
(he  Bourse,  that  much  was  certain.    He  was  said  to  own  a 


i, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


93 


third  share  in  a  stock-broker's  office.  He  did  a  good  deal 
of  business  with  M.  Jottras,  of  the  firm  of  Jottras  Brothers, 
and  also  with  the  Saint-Pavin,  the  editor  of  a  very  popular 
journal,  "  The  Financial  Pilot."  It  was  further  known  that 
he  had  a  magnificent  apartment  in  the  Rue  Vivienne,  and 
that  he  had  successively  honoured  with  his  liberal  pro- 
tection Mademoiselle  Sydney  of  the  Theatre  des  Varietes, 
and  Madame  Jenny  Fancy,  a  lady  of  a  certain  age  already, 
but  so  situated  as  to  return  to  her  lovers  in  the  form  of 
notoriety  what  they  gave  her  in  coin  of  the  realm.  Max- 
ence  learnt  this  much  without  difficulty.  As  to  any  more 
precise  details,  it  was  impossible  to  obtain  them.  To  his 
pressing  questions  respecting  M.  Costeclar's  antecedents  : 

He  is  a  very  honest  man,"  answered  some.  He  is 
simply  a  speculator,"  affirmed  others.  But  all  agreed  that 
he  was  a  sharp  fellow  who  would  surely  make  his  fortune, 
and  without  passing  through  the  poUce-courts,  either. 
"  How  can  our  father  and  such  a  man  be  so  intimately 
connected  ? "  wondered  Maxence  and  his  sister. 

And  they  were  lost  in  conjectures,  when  suddenly,  at  an 
hour  when  he  never  set  his  foot  in  the  house,  M.  Favoral 
appeared.  Throwing  a  letter  upon  his  daughter's  lap,  he 
said  in  a  hoarse  voice, — "  See  what  I  have  just  received 
from  Costeclar.  Read." 

She  read  as  follows  ;  "  Allow  me,  dear  friend,  to  release 
you  from  your  engagement.  Owing  to  circumstances  ab- 
solutely beyond  my  control,  I  find  myself  compelled  to 
forego  the  honour  of  becoming  a  member  of  your  family." 

What  could  have  happened  ?  Standing  in  the  middle 
of  the  drawing-room,  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit 
Bank  held  his  wife  and  children  bowed  down  beneath  his 
glance  :  Madame  Favoral  trembling,  Maxence  staring  in 
mute  surprise,  and  Gilberte,  who  needed  all  the  strength 
of  her  will  to  control  the  explosion  of  her  boundless  joy. 
Everything  in  M.  Favoral,  however,  betrayed  much  more 
excitement  of  a  disaster  than  the  rage  of  a  deception. 
Never  had  his  family  seen  him  thus, — livid,  his  cravat 
undone,  his  hair  wet  with  perspiration,  and  clinging  to 
his  temples.  Will  you  please  explain  this  letter  ?  "  he 
asked  at  last.  And,  as  no  one  answered  him,  he  took 
the  letter  up  again  from  the  table  where  Gilberte  had  laid 
it,  and  commenced  reading  it  again,  scanning  each  syl- 
lable, as  if  in  hopes  of  discovering  in  every  word  some 


94 


OTHER  PEOPLES  MONEY. 


hidden  meaning.       What  have  you  said  to  Costeclar  ? 
he  resumed,  "  what  have  you  done  to  him  to  make  him 
take  such  a  determination  ? " 

"  Nothing,"  answered  both  Maxence  and  Gilberte. 

The  hope  of  being  at  last  rid  of  that  man  inspired  Mad- 
ame Favoral  with  something  Hke  courage.  ^'  He  doubtless 
understood,"  she  meekly  suggested,  "  that  he  could  not 
triumph  over  our  daughter's  repugnance." 

But  her  husband  interrupted  her, — *^No,"  he  exclaimed, 
"  Costeclar  is  not  the  man  to  trouble  himself  about  a  little 
girl's  ridiculous  caprices.  There  is  something  else.  But 
what  ?  Come,  if  you  know  it,  any  of  you,  if  you  even  only 
suspect  it,  speak,  tell  me.  You  must  see  that  I  am  in  a 
fearful  state  of  anxiety."  It  was  the  first  time  that  he  thus 
allowed  anything  to  appear  of  what  was  passing  within 
him,  the  first  time  that  he  ever  complained. 

M.  Costeclar  alone,  father,  can  give  you  the  explana- 
tion you  ask  of  us,"  said  Mademoiselle  Gilberte. 

The  cashier  shook  his  head.  Do  you  suppose,  then, 
that  I  have  not  questioned  him  ?  I  found  his  letter  this 
morning  at  the  office.  I  at  once  hurried  to  his  apartments 
in  the  Rue  Vivien ne.  He  had  just  gone  out ;  and  it  was 
in  vain  that  I  called  for  him  at  Jottras',  and  at  the  ofhce 
of '  The  Financial  Pilot.'  I  found  him  at  last  at  the  Bourse, 
after  seeking  for  him  during  three  hours.  But  he  would 
only  give  me  evasive  answers  and  vague  explanations.  Of 
course  he  did  not  fail  to  say,  that,  if  he  withdraws,  it  is 
because  he  despairs  of  ever  succeeding  in  pleasing  Gilberte. 
But  it  isn't  so  :  I  know  it,  I  am  sure  of  it,  I  read  it  in  his 
eyes.  Twice  his  lips  moved  as  if  he  were  about  to  confess 
all ;  and  then  he  said  nothing.  And,  the  more  I  insisted, 
the  more  he  seemed  ill  at  ease,  embarrassed,  uneasy,  trou- 
bled, the  more  he  appeared  to  me  like  a  man  who  has  been 
threatened,  and  dares  not  brave  the  threat."  He  directed 
upon  his  children  one  of  those  obstinate  looks  which  search 
the  inmost  depth  of  a  conscience. 

If  you  have  done  anything  to  drive  him  off,"  he  re- 
sumed, "  confess  it  frankly,  and  I  swear  I  will  not  reproach 
you." 

"  We  did  not." 

"  You  did  not  threaten  him  ?  " 
"No!" 

M.  Favoral  seemed  appalled.    "  Doubtless  ycu  deceive 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


95 


me,"  he  said,  "and  I  hope  you  do.  Unhappy  children  ! 
you  do  not  know  what  this  rupture  may  cost  you."  And, 
instead  of  returning  to  his  office,  he  shut  himself  up  in  that 
little  room  which  he  called  his  study,  and  only  came  out 
of  it  at  about  five  o'clock,  holding  under  his  arm  an  enor- 
mous bundle  of  papers,  and  saying  that  it  would  be  useless 
to  wait  for  him  for  dinner,  as  he  would  not  come  home 
until  late  in  the  night,  if  he  came  home  at  all,  being  com- 
pelled to  make  up  for  his  lost  time. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  your  father,  my  poor  chil- 
dren ?  "  exclaimed  Madame  Favoral.  "  I  have  never  before 
seen  him  in  such  a  state." 

"Doubtless,"  replied  Maxence,  *'the  rupture  with  Cos- 
teclar  will  spoil  some  combination." 

But  that  explanation  did  not  satisfy  him  any  more  than 
it  did  his  mother.  He,  too,  felt  a  vague  apprehension  of 
some  impending  misfortune.  But  what  ?  He  had  nothing 
upon  which  to  base  his  conjectures.  He  knew  nothing, 
any  more  than  his  mother,  of  his  father's  affairs,  of  his 
connections,  of  his  interests,  or  even  of  his  life,  outside 
the  house.  And  mother  and  son  lost  themselves  in  absurd 
suppositions.  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  however,  thought 
she  could  have  enlightened  them.  In  the  unerring  cer- 
tainty of  the  blew,  in  the  crushing  promptness  of  the  re- 
sult, she  thought  she  recognised  the  hand  of  Marius  de 
Tregars  ;  the  hand  of  the  man  who  acts,  and  does  not  talk. 
And  the  girFs  pride  felt  flattered  by  this  victory,  by  this 
proof  of  the  powerful  energy  of  the  man  w^hom,  unknown 
to  all,  she  had  selected.  She  liked  to  imagine  Marius  de 
Tregars  and  M.  Costeclar  in  presence  of  each  other,  the 
one  as  imperious  and  haughty  as  she  had  seen  him  meek 
and  trembling ;  the  other  more  humble  still  than  he  was 
arrogant  with  her.  "  One  thing  is  certain,"  she  repeated 
to  herself,  "and  that  is,  I  am  saved."  And  she  wished 
the  morrow  to  come,  that  she  might  announce  her  happi- 
ness to  the  very  involuntary  and  very  unconscious  accom- 
plice of  Marius,  the  worthy  maestro  Gismondo  Pulci. 

The  next  day  M.  Favoral  seemed  to  have  resigned  him- 
self to  the  failure  of  his  projects  ;  and,  the  following  Sat- 
urday, he  told  as  a  pleasant  joke,  how  Mademoiselle  Gil- 
berte had  carried  the  day,  and  had  managed  to  dismiss  her 
lover.  But  a  close  observer  could  discover  in  him  symp- 
toms of  devouring  cares.    Deep  wrinkles  appeared  across 


96 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


his  forehead  ;  his  eyes  were  sunken  ;  a  continued  tension 
of  mind  contracted  his  features.  Often  during  dinner  he 
would  remain  motionless  for  several  minutes,  his  fork  in 
the  air  ;  and  then  he  would  murmur,  "  How  will  it  all  end  ?  " 
Sometimes  in  the  morning,  before  his  departure  for  his 
office,  M.  Jottras,  and  M.  Saint-Pavin,  the  editor  of  "  The 
Financial  Pilot/'  came  to  see  him.  They  closeted  them- 
selves together,  and  remained  for  hours  in  conference, 
speaking  so  low,  that  not  even  a  vague  murmur  could  be 
heard  outside  the  door.  Your  father  has  grave  causes  of 
anxiety,  my  children,''  said  Madame  Favoral :  "  you  may 
believe  me,  who  for  twenty  years  have  been  trying  to  guess 
our  fate  upon  his  countenance."  But  the  political  events 
were  sufficient  to  explain  any  amount  of  anxiety.  It  was 
the  second  week  of  July,  1870  ;  and  the  destinies  of  France 
trembled,  as  upon  a  cast  of  the  dice,  in  the  hands  of  a  few 
presumptuous  and  incapable  persons.  Was  it  war  with 
Prussia,  or  was  it  peace,  that  was  to  issue  from  the  compli- 
cations of  a  childishly  astute  policy  ?  The  most  contra- 
dictory rumours  daily  caused  on  the  Bourse  violent  oscil- 
lations, which  endangered  the  safest  fortunes.  A  few 
words  uttered  in  the  corridor  by  Emile  Ollivier  had  made 
a  dozen  heavy  operators  rich,  but  had  ruined  five  hundred 
small  ones.  On  all  hands,  credit  was  trembling.  At  last, 
one  evening  when  M.  Favoral  came  home,  he  announced 
the  declaration  of  war. 

It  was  but  too  true  ;  and  no  one  then  had  any  fears  of 
the  result  for  France.  The  French  army  had  been  so  much 
exalted,  it  had  so  often  been  described  as  invincible,  that 
every  one  among  the  public  expected  a  series  of  crushing 
victories.  Alas !  the  first  telegram  announced  a  defeat 
People  refused  to  believe  it  at  first.  But  there  was  the 
evidence.  The  soldiers  had  died  bravely  ;  but  the  chiefs 
had  been  incapable  of  leading  them.  From  that  timej  and 
with  a  vertiginous  rapidity,  from  day  to  day,  from  hour  to 
hour,  the  fatal  news  came  crowding  on.  Like  a  river  that 
overflows  its  banks,  Prussia  was  overrunning  France.  Ba- 
zaine  was  surrounded  at  Metz ;  and  the  capitulation  of 
Sedan  capped  the  climax  of  so  many  disasters.  At  last, 
on  the  4th  of  September,  the  Republic  was  proclaimed. 
On  the  5th,  when  Signer  Gismondo  Pulci  presented  him- 
self at  the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  his  face  bore  such  an  expression 
of  anguish,  that  Gilberte  could  not  help  asking  what  was 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


97 


the  matter.  He  rose  from  his  seat,  and,  threatening  heaven 
with  his  clenched  fist.  "  Implacable  fate  does  not  tire  of 
persecuting  me,"  he  replied.  I  had  overcome  all  obsta- 
cles, I  was  happy,  I  was  looking  forward  to  a  future  of  for- 
tune and  glory.  And  now  this  dreadful  war  must  break 
out."  For  the  worthy  maestro,  this  terrible  catastrophe 
was  but  a  new  caprice  of  his  own  destiny. 

"  What  has  happened  to  you  ?  "  inquired  the  young  girl, 
repressing  a  smile. 

"  It  is,  signorina,  that  I  am  about  to  lose  my  beloved 
pupil.  He  leaves  me  ;  he  forsakes  me.  In  vain  have  I 
thrown  myself  at  his  feet.  My  tears  have  not  been  able  to 
detain  him.  He  is  going  to  fight ;  he  leaves  ;  he  is  a  sol- 
dier !  " 

Then  it  was  given  to  Gilberte  to  see  clearly  within  her 
soul.  Then  she  understood  how  absolutely  she  had  given 
herself  up,  and  to  what  extent  she  had  ceased  to  belong  to 
herself.  Her  sensation  was  terrible,  as  though  her  whole 
blood  had  suddenly  escaped  through  her  open  arteries. 
She  turned  pale,  her  teeth  chattered ;  and  she  seemed  so 
near  fainting,  that  Signor  Gismondo  sprang  to  the  door, 
crying,    Help,  help  !  she  is  dying." 

Madame  Favoral,  frightened,  came  running  in.  But 
already,  thanks  to  an  all-powerful  strength  of  will,  Gil- 
berte had  recovered,  and,  smiling  a  pale  smile,  "  It's  noth- 
ing, mamma,"  she  said.  "  A  sudden  pain  at  my  heart ;  but 
it's  gone  already." 

The  worthy  maestro  was  in  perfect  agony.  Taking 
Madame  Favoral  aside,  he  said — ^'  It  is  my  fault.  It  is 
the  story  of  my  unheard-of  misfortunes  that  has  upset  her 
thus.  Monstrous  egotist  that  I  am  !  I  should  have  been 
more  careful  of  her  exquisite  sensibility." 

She  insisted,  nevertheless,  upon  taking  her  lesson  as 
usual,  and  recovered  enough  presence  of  mind  to  extract 
from  Signor  Gismondo  everything  that  his  much-regretted 
pupil  had  confided  to  him.  That  was  not  much.  He 
knew  that  his  pupil  had  gone,  like  many  others,  to  the 
Rue  du  Cherche-Midi ;  that  he  had  signed  an  engagement, 
and  had  been  ordered  to  join  a  regiment  in  process  of 
formation  near  Tours.  And,  as  he  w^ent  out,  "  She  is  all 
right  now,"  said  the  kind  maestro  to  Madame  Favoral. 
"  The  signorina  has  quite  recovered,  and  is  as  gay  as  a 
lark." 


3 


^THER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


The  signorina,  shut  up  in  her  room,  was  shedding  bit- 
ter tears.  She  tried  to  reason  with  herself,  and  could  not 
succeed.  Never  had  the  strangeness  of  her  situation  so 
clearly  appeared  to  her.  She  repeated  to  herself  that  she 
must  be  mad  to  have  thus  become  attached  to  a  stran- 
ger. She  wondered  how  she  could  have  allowed  that  love, 
which  was  now  her  very  life,  to  take  possession  of  her  soul. 
But  to  what  end  1  It  no  longer  rested  with  her  to  undo 
what  had  been  done.  When  she  thought  that  Marius  de 
Tregars  was  about  to  leave  Paris  to  become  a  soldier,  to 
fight,  to  die  perhaps,  she  felt  her  head  whirl;  she  saw 
nothing  around  her  but  despair  and  chaos.  But,  the  more 
she  thought,  the  more  certain  she  felt  that  Marius  could 
not  have  trusted  solely  to  the  chance  gossip  of  Signor 
Pulci  to  communicate  to  her  his  determination.  It  is 
perfectly  inadmissible,"  she  thought.  "  It  is  impossible 
that  he  will  not  make  an  effort  to  see  me  before  leav- 
ing." 

Thoroughly  imbued  with  this  idea,  she  wiped  her  eyes, 
took  a  seat  by  an  open  window  ;  and  whilst  apparently 
busy  with  her  work,  she  concentrated  her  whole  attention 
upon  the  street.  There  were  more  people  out  .than  usual. 
The  recent  events  had  stirred  Paris  to  it's  lowest  depths, 
and,  as  from  the  crater  of  a  volcano  in  labour,  all  the 
social  scum  rose  to  the  surface.  Men  of  sinister  appear- 
ance left  their  haunts,  and  wandered  through  the  city. 
The  workshops  were  all  deserted ;  and  people  strolled  at 
random,  stupor  or  terror  impressed  on  their  countenances. 
But  in  vain  did  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  seek  in  all  this 
crowd  the  one  she  hoped  to  see.  The  hours  went  by, 
and  she  was  getting  discouraged,  when  suddenly,  towards 
dusk,  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  de  Turenne,  a  voice  within 
her  cried  :  "  'Tis  he."  It  was,  in  fact,  M.  de  Tregars. 
He  was  walking  towards  the  Boulevard  Beaumarchais 
slowly,  and  with  his  eyes  raised.  Palpitating,  the  young 
girl  rose  to  her  feet.  She  was  in  one  of  those  moments 
of  crisis  when  the  blood,  rushing  to  the  brain,  smothers  all 
judgment.  Unconscious,  as  it  were,  of  her  acts,  she  leaned 
out  of  the  window,  and  made  a  sign  to  Marius,  which  he 
understood  very  well,  and  which  meant :  "  Wait,  I  am  com- 
ing down." 

"  Where  are  you  going,  dear  ?  "  Asked  Madame  Fava 
ral,  seeing  Gilberte  put  on  her  bonnet. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MOJVE  K 


99 


"  To  the  draper's,  mamma,  to  get  a  shade  of  worsted  I 
need." 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  was  not  in  the  habit  of  going  out 
alone  ;  but  it  happened  quite  often  that  she  would  go  out 
in  the  neighbourhood  on  some  little  errand. 

"  Do  you  wish  the  girl  to  go  out  with  you  ?  "  asked  Mad- 
ame Favoral. 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  worth  while  !  " 

She  ran  down  the  stairs  and  once  out,  regardless  of  the 
eyes  that  might  be  watching  her,  she  walked  straight  to 
M.  de  Tregars,  who  was  waiting  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue 
des  Minimes.  You  are  going  away  ?  "  she  said,  too 
much  agitated  to  notice  his  own  emotion,  which  was,  how- 
ever, quite  evident. 

"  I  must,''  he  answered. 

"  Oh !  " 

"  When  France  is  invaded,  the  place  of  a  man  who 
bears  my  name  is  where  the  fighting  is." 

"  But  there  will  be  fighting  at  Paris  too." 

"  Paris  has  four  times  as  many  defenders  as  it  needs. 
It  is  outside  that  soldiers  will  be  wanted." 

"They  walked  slowly,  as  they  spoke  thus,  along  the 
Rue  des  Minimes,  one  of  the  least  frequented  in  Paris  ; 
and  at  that  hour  there  were  only  to  be  seen  five  or  six  sol- 
diers lounging  in  front  of  the  barracks  gate. 

"  Suppose,  however,  I  were  to  beg  you  not  to  go,"  re- 
sumed Mademoiselle  Gilberte.  "  Suppose  I  beseeched 
you,  Marius  ! " 

"  I  should  remain  then,"  he  answered  in  a  troubled 
voice ;  "  but  I  would  be  betraying  my  duty,  and  wanting 
in  honour ;  and  remorse  would  weigh  upon  us  for  the  rest 
of  our  lives.    Now  command,  and  I  will  obey." 

After  a  moment  of  painful  reflection,  the  young  girl 
said  :  "  I  no  longer  ask  you  to  stay,  Marius." 

He  took  her  hand,  and  raised  it  to  his  lips.  "  I  expected 
no  less  of  your  courage,"  he  exclaimed,  his  voice  vibrat- 
ing with  love.  But  he  controlled  himself,  and,  in  a  more 
quiet  tone,  he  added:  *^ Thanks  to  Pulci's  indiscretion,  I 
was  in  hopes  of  seeing  you,  but  not  of  having  the  happi- 
ness of  speaking  to  you.  I  had  written  to  you  " — He 
drew  from  his  pocket  a  large  envelope,  and,  handing  it  to 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte, — "  Here  is  the  letter,"  he  contin- 
ued, "  which  I  intended  for  you.    It  contains  another^ 


lOO 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


which  I  beg  you  to  preserve  carefully,  and  not  to  open 
unless  I  do  not  return.  I  leave  behind  me  in  Paris  a 
devoted  friend,  the  Count  de  Villegre.  Whatever  may 
happen  to  you,  apply  to  him  with  all  confidence,  as  you 
would  to  myself." 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte,  staggering,  leaned  against  the 
wall.       When  do  you  leave  ?  "  she  inquired. 

This  very  night.  Communications  may  be  cut  off  at 
any  moment." 

Admirable  in  her  sorrow,  but  also  full  of  energy,  the  poor 
girl  looked  up,  and  held  out  her  hand  to  him.  "  Go  then," 
said  she,  "  O  my  only  friend  !  go,  since  honour  com- 
mands. But  do  not  forget  that  it  is  not  your  life  alone 
that  you  are  going  to  risk." 

And,  fearing  to  burst  into  sobs,  she  fled,  and  reached 
the  Rue  St.  Gilles  a  few  moments  before  her  father,  who 
had  gone  out  in  quest  of  news.  What  he  heard  was  far 
from  reassuring.  Like  the  rising  tide,  the  Prussians 
spread  and  advanced,  slowly  but  steadily.  Their  marches 
were  numbered  ;  and  the  day  and  hour  could  be  named 
when  their  flood  would  come  and  strike  the  walls  of  Paris. 
There  was,  therefore,  at  all  the  railway  stations,  a  pro- 
digious rush  of  people  who  wished  to  leave  at  any  cost, 
in  any  way,  in  the  luggage-van  if  needs  be,  and  who  cer- 
tainly were  not,  like  Marius,  rushing  to  meet  the  enemy. 
One  after  another,  M.  Favoral  had  seen  nearly  every  one 
he  knew  take  flight.  Baron  and  Baroness  de  Thaller 
and  their  daughter  had  gone  to  Switzerland ;  M.  Costeclar 
was  travelling  in  Belgium  ;  the  elder  Jottras  was  in  Eng- 
land, buying  guns  and  cartridges  ;  and  if  the  younger  Jot- 
tras remained  in  Paris  with  M.  Saint-Pavin  of  The  Finan- 
cial Pilot,"  it  was  because  they  had  obtained  some  valua- 
ble contracts  from  the  government,  through  the  gallant 
influence  of  a  lady  whose  name  was  not  mentioned. 

The  cashier's  perplexities  were  great.  The  day  that 
the  Baron  and  the  Baroness  de  Thaller  had  left,  he  said 
to  his  wife  :  "  Pack  up  our  trunks  a^  once.  The  Bourse 
will  soon  close ;  and  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  can  very 
well  do  without  me." 

But  the  next  day  he  became  undecided  again.  What 
Gilberte  thought  was  that  he  was  longing  to  go  off  alone, 
and  leave  his  family,  but  that  he  dared  not  do  it.  He 
hesitated  so  long,  that  at  last,  one  evening,  he  exclaimed : 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


101 


You  may  unpack  the  trunks.  Paris  is  invested  ;  and  no 
one  can  leave  now/' 

XVIII. 

In  fact,  the  news  had  just  been  received,  that  the  West- 
ern  Railway,  the  last  one  that  had  remained  open,  was 
now  closed.  Paris  was  invested  ;  and  so  rapid  had  been 
the  investment,  that  it  could  hardly  be  believed.  People 
flocked  in  crowds  to  the  highest  parts  of  Paris,  like  the 
Buttes  Montmartre,  and  the  heights  of  the  Trocadero. 
Telescopes  were  set  up,  and  every  one  was  anxious  to 
scan  the  horizon,  and  look  for  the  Prussians.  But  nothing 
could  be  discovered.  The  distant  fields  retained  their 
quiet  and  smiling  aspect  under  the  mild  rays  of  the  au> 
tumn  sun.  So  that  it  really  required  quite  an  effort  of 
imagination  to  realise  the  sinister  fact,  to  understand  that 
Paris,  with  its  two  milHons  of  inhabitants,  was  indeed  cut 
off  from  the  world  and  separated  from  the  rest  of  France, 
by  an  insurmountable  circle  of  steel.  Doubt  and  some- 
thing like  a  vague  hope  could  be  traced  in  the  tones  of 
those  who,  meeting  acquaintances  in  the  streets,  would 
say  :  "  Well,  it's  all  over ;  we  can't  leave  now.  Letters 
even,  cannot  pass.  No  more  news,  eh  ? But  the  next 
day,  which  was  the  19th  of  September,  the  most  incredu- 
lous were  convinced.  For  the  first  time  Paris  trembled  at 
the  hoarse  voice  of  the  cannon  thundering  on  the  heights 
of  Chatillon.    The  siege  of  Paris  had  commenced. 

The  life  the  Favorals  led  during  those  interminable 
days  of  anguish  and  suffering,  was  similar  to  that  of  a 
hundred  thousand  other  families.  Incorporated  in  the 
battalion  of  national  guards  of  his  ward,  the  cashier  of  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank,  went  off  two  or  three  times  a  week, 
the  same  as  all  his  neighbours,  to  mount  guard  on  the 
ramparts, — a  useless  duty  perhaps,  though  those  that  per- 
formed it,  did  not  think  so, — a  very  arduous  duty,  at  any 
rate,  for  well-to-do  citizens,  accustomed  to  the  comforts  of 
their  shops,  or  of  their  offices.  To  be  sure,  there  was 
nothing  heroic  in  tramping  through  the  mud,  in  being 
soaked  through  by  the  rain  or  snow,  in  sleeping  on  the 
ground  or  on  the  dirty  straw,  in  mounting  guard  during 
the  most  severe  frosts.  But  one  may  die  of  pleurisy  just 
as  much  as  by  a  Prussian  bullet ;  and  many  died  of  it, 


102 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


Maxence  showed  himself  but  rarely  at  the  Rue  St.  Gilles: 
he  had  enlisted  in  a  battalion  of  freeshooters,  and  did  duty 
at  the  outposts.  As  to  Madame  Favoral  and  Mademoi- 
selle Gilberte,  they  spent  their  days  in  obtaining  food. 
Rising  before  daylight  in  spite  of  rain  or  snow,  they  joined 
the  crowd  stationed  at  the  door  of  the  butcher's  shop,  and, 
after  waiting  hours  for  their  turn,  received  a  small  slice  of 
horse  flesh.  Alone  together  in  the  evening,  by  the  side  of 
the  hearth  where  a  few  pieces  of  green  wood  smoked  with- 
out burning,  they  started  at  each  of  the  distant  reports  of 
the  cannon.  Madame  Favoral  thought  that  it  was,  per- 
haps, the  one  that  had  killed  her  son.  And  Mademoi- 
selle Gilberte  was  thinking  of  Marius  de  Tregars.  The 
accursed  days  of  November  and  December  had  come. 
There  were  constant  rumours  of  bloody  battles  fought 
around  Orleans.  She  imagined  Marius,  mortally  wounded, 
expiring  on  the  snow,  alone,  and  without  a  friend  to 
help  him.  One  evening  the  vision  was  so  clear,  and  the 
impression  so  strong,  that  she  started  up  and  uttered  a 
loud  cry. 

"  What  is  it  ? ''  asked  Madame  Favoral,  alarmed.  What 
is  the  matter  " 

With  a  little  perspicacity,  the  worthy  woman  could 
easily  have  discovered  her  daughter's  secret ;  for  Gilberte 
was  not  in  condition  to  deny  anything.  But  she  con- 
tented herself  with  an  explanation  which  meant  nothing, 
and  did  not  entertain  the  slightest  suspicion,  when  the 
young  girl  answered,  with  a  forced  smile  :  "  It's  nothing, 
dear  mother,  nothing  but  an  absurd  idea  that  crossed  my 
mind.'' 

Strange  to  say,  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank 
had  never  before  been  so  pleasant  with  his  family  as  he 
was  during  those  months  of  trial.  During  the  first  weeks 
of  the  siege  he  had  been  anxious,  agitated,  nervous  ;  he 
wandered  through  the  house  like  a  soul  in  trouble ;  he 
had  moments  of  inconceivable  prostration,  during  which 
tears  could  be  seen  coursing  down  his  cheeks  ;  and  then 
fits  of  anger  without  motive.  But  every  day  that  elapsed 
seemed  to  bring  calm  to  his  soul.  Little  by  little,  he  be- 
came so  indulgent  and  so  affectionate  to  his  wife,  that  the 
poor  helot  felt  her  heart  touched.  He  was  so  attentive  to 
his  daughter  that  she  knew  not  what  to  think.  Often, 
when  the  weather  was  fine,  he  took  them  out  walking, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


along  the  quays  towards  a  part  of  the  ramparts  occupied 
by  the  battalion  of  their  ward.  Twice  he  took  them  to 
St.  Ouen,  where  the  party  of  freeshooters  to  which  Max- 
ence  belonged  were  encamped.  Another  day  he  wished 
to  take  them  to  visit  M.  de  Thaller's  house,  of  which  he 
had  charge.  They  refused,  and  instead  of  getting  angry, 
as  he  certainly  would  have  done  formerly,  he  commenced 
describing  to  them  the  splendours  of  the  apartments,  the 
magnificent  furniture,  the  carpets  and  the  hangings,  the 
valuable  paintings,  the  objects  of  art,  the  bronzes,  in  a 
word,  all  that  dazzling  luxury  of  which  financiers  make 
use,  after  the  fashion  of  those  bird-catchers  who  snare  sky- 
larks by  the  aid  of  looking-glasses.  He  never  in  any  way 
alluded  to  business.  He  went  every  morning  to  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank  ;  but,  as  he  said,  it  was  solely  as  a 
matter  of  form.  Now  and  then  M.  Saint-Pavin  and  the 
younger  Jottras  called  at  the  Rue  St.  Gilles.  They  had 
suspended — the  one  the  payments  of  his  banking  house  ; 
the  other,  the  publication  of  "  The  Financial  Pilot."  But 
they  were  not  idle  for  all  that :  and,  in  the  midst  of  the 
public  distress,  they  still  managed  to  speculate  upon 
something,  no  one  knew  what,  and  to  realise  profits.  They 
pleasantly  rallied  the  fools  who  had  faith  in  the  defence, 
and  imitated  the  most  laughable  manner  the  appearance, 
in  their  soldiers'  cloaks,  of  three  or  four  of  their  friends 
who  had  joined  the  fighting  battalions.  They  boasted 
that  they  endured  no  privations,  and  always  knew  where 
to  obtain  sufficient  fresh  butter  to  dress  the  large  slices  of 
beef  which  they  possessed  the  art  of  finding.  Madame 
Favoral  sometimes  heard  them  laugh  ;  and  M.  Saint-Pavin, 
the  editor  of  "  The  Financial  Pilot,"  would  exclaim  : 
"  Come,  come  !  we  would  be  fools  to  complain.  It  is  a 
general  liquidation,  without  risks  and  without  costs." 

Their  mirth  had  something  revolting  in  it;  for  it  was 
then  the  last  and  most  acute  period  of  the  siege.  At  the 
beginning,  the  greatest  optimists  hardly  thought  that  Paris 
could  hold  out  six  weeks.  And  now  the  siege  had  lasted  over 
four  months.  The  population  was  reduced  to  nameless 
articles  of  food.  The  supply  of  bread  had  failed  ;  the 
wounded,  for  lack  of  a  little  soup,  died  in  the  ambulances  ; 
old  people  and  children  perished  by  the  hundred ;  on  the 
left  bank  of  the  Seine  the  shells  came  down  thick  and  fastf 
the  weather  was  intensely  cold,  and  there  was  no  more  fuel 


104 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


And  yet  no  one  complained.  From  the  midst  of  that  pop- 
ulation of  two  millions  of  inhabitants,  not  one  voice  rose 
to  beg  for  their  comfort,  their  health,  their  life  even,  at  the 
cost  of  a  capitulation.  Clear-sighted  men  had  never  hoped 
that  Paris  alone  could  compel  the  enemy  to  raise  the 
siege ;  but  they  thought,  that  by  holding  out,  and  keeping 
the  Prussians  under  its  walls,  Paris  would  procure  France 
sufficient  time  to  rise  up,  to  organise  armies,  and  to  exter 
minate  the  enemy.  That  was  the  duty  of  Paris  ;  and  Paris 
was  toiling  to  fulfil  it  to  the  utmost  limits  of  possibility, 
reckoning  as  a  victory  each  day  that  it  held  out.  Unfor- 
tunately, all  this  suffering  was  to  be  in  vain.  The  fatal 
hour  struck,  when,  supplies  being  entirely  exhausted,  it 
became  necessary  to  surrender.  During  three  days  the 
Prussians  camped  in  the  Champs  Elysees,  gazing  with 
longing  eyes  upon  that  city,  the  object  of  their  most  eager 
desires, — that  Paris  about  which,  victorious  though  they 
were,  they  did  not  dare  to  venture.  Then,  soon  after, 
communications  were  re-opened ;  and  one  morning,  on  re- 
ceiving a  letter  from  Switzerland,  M.  Favoral  exclaimed : 
It  is  from  the  Baron  de  Thaller  !  " 

And  it  was  so.  The  manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit 
Bank  was  a  prudent  man.  Pleasantly  installed  in  Switz- 
erland, he  was  not  at  all  anxious  to  return  to  Paris  before 
being  quite  certain  that  he  would  run  no  risks.  Upon  re- 
ceiving M.  FavoraPs  assurance  to  that  effect,  he  started ; 
and,  almost  at  the  same  time  the  elder  Jottras  and  M. 
Costeclar  reappeared, 

XIX. 

It  was  a  curious  spectacle,  the  return  of  those  braves 
for  whom  Parisian  slang  had  invented  the  new  and  signifi- 
cant expression  of  franc-fileur.  They  were  not  so  proud 
then  as  they  have  been  since.  Feeling  rather  embarrassed 
in  the  midst  of  a  population  still  quivering  with  the  emo- 
tions of  the  siege,  they  had  at  least  the  good  taste  to  try 
and  find  pretexts  for  their  absence.  "  I  was  shut  out," 
affirmed  the  Baron  de  Thaller.  I  had  gone  to  Switzer- 
land to  place  my  wife  and  daughter  in  safety.  When  I 
came  back,  good-bye !  the  Prussians  had  closed  the  doors. 
For  more  than  a  week  I  wandered  around  Paris,  trying  to 
find  an  opening.    I  became  suspected  of  being  a  spy,  I 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


105 


was  arrested,  and  almost  shot."  "As  to  myself,"  de- 
clared  M.  Costeclar,  "I  foresaw  exactly  what  has  hap- 
pened. I  knew  that  men  would  be  wanted  outside,  to  or- 
ganise armies  of  relief.  I  went  and  offered  my  services 
to  the  government  of  National  Defence ;  and  everybody  in 
Bordeaux  saw  me  booted  and  spurred,  and  ready  to  leave." 
He  was  consequently  soliciting  the  Cross  of  the  Legion  of 
Honour,  and  was  not  without  hopes  of  obtaining  it  through 
the  all-powerful  influence  of  his  financial  connections. 
"  Didn't  So-and-so  get  it  ?  "  he  replied  to  objections.  And 
he  named  this  or  that  individual  whose  feats  of  arms  con- 
sisted principally  in  having  exhibited  themselves  in  uni- 
forms covered  with  stripes  to  the  very  shoulders.  "  But  I 
am  the  man  who  deserves  it  most,  that  cross,"  insisted  the 
younger  M.  Jottras ;  "  for  I,  at  least,  have  rendered  valu- 
able services."  And  he  went  on  telling  how,  after  search- 
ing for  arms  all  over  England,  he  had  sailed  for  New 
York,  where  he  had  purchased  any  number  of  guns  and 
cartridges,  and  even  cannons.  This  last  journey  had  been 
very  wearisome  to  him,  he  added,  and  yet  he  did  not  re- 
gret it ;  for  it  had  furnished  him  an  opportunity  to  study 
on  the  spot  the  financial  customs  of  America ;  and  he  had 
returned  with  enough  schemes  to  make  the  fortunes  of 
three  or  four  stock  companies  with  twenty  millions  of  cap- 
ital. "  Ah,  those  Americans  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  They  are 
the  men  who  understand  business !  We  are  but  children 
when  compared  to  them." 

It  was  through  M.  Chapelain,  the  Desclavettes,  and  old 
Desormeaux,  that  the  Favorals  obtained  their  news*  And 
also  through  Maxence,  whose  battalion  had  been  dis- 
banded, and  who,  whilst  waiting  for  something  better,  had 
accepted  a  clerkship  in  the  offices,  of  the  Orleans  Railway, 
by  wiiich  he  earned  two  hundred  francs  a  month.  For  M. 
Favoral  saw  and  heard  nothing  that  was  going  on  around 
him.  He  w^as  wholly  absorbed  in  his  business  :  he  left 
earlier,  came  home  later,  and  hardly  allowed  himself  time 
to  eat  and  drink.  He  told  all  his  friends  that  business 
was  looking  up  again  in  the  most  unexpected  manner; 
that  fortunes  were  to  be  made  by  those  who  could  com- 
mand ready  cash ;  and  that  it  was  well  to  make  up  for  lost 
time.  He  pretended  that  the  enormous  indemnity  to  be 
paid  to  the  Prussians  would  necessitate  an  enormous  move- 
ment of  capital,  financial  combinations,  a  loan,  and  that  so 


io6 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


many  milliards  could  not,  be  handled  without  a  few  little 
millions  falling  into  intelligent  pockets.  Dazzled  by  the 
mere  enumeration  of  these  fabulous  sums,  his  friends 
would  say  :  "  I  should  not  be  a  bit  surprised  to  see  Favoral 
double  and  perhaps  treble  his  fortune.  What  a  famous 
match  his  daughter  will  be  ! 

Alas  !  never  had  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  felt  in  her  heart 
so  much  hatred  and  disgust  for  money,  the  only  thought, 
the  sole  subject  of  conversation,  of  those  around  her;  that 
cursed  money  which  had  risen  like  an  insurmountable  bar- 
rier between  Marius  and  herself.  For  two  weeks  past, 
communication  with  the  provinces  had  been  completely 
restored  ;  and  yet  there  had  been  no  sign  of  M.  de  Tregars. 
Her  heart  beat  violently  each  time  the  hour  approached  at 
which  Signor  Gismondo  Pulci  gave  her  her  lesson ;  and 
her  anguish  became  more  painful  each  time  she  heard  him 
exclaim  :  "  Nothing,  not  a  line,  not  a  wofd.  The  pupil 
has  forgotten  his  old  master !  "  But  Gilberte  knew  well 
that  Marius  had  not  forgotten.  Her  blood  froze  in  her 
veins  when  she  read  in  the  papers  the  interminable  list  of 
those  poor  soldiers  who  had  succumbed  during  the  inva- 
sion :  the  more  fortunate  ones  under  the  Prussian  bullets ; 
the  others  along  the  roads,  in  the  mud  or  in  the  snow,  of 
cold,  of  fatigue,  of  suffering  and  of  want.  She  could  not 
drive  from  her  mind  the  memory  of  that  lugubrious  vision 
which  had  so  much  frightened  her ;  and  she  asked  herself 
whether  it  was  not  one  of  those  inexplicable  presentiments, 
which  announce  the  death  of  a  beloved  person.  Alone  at 
night,  in  her  little  room,  Gilberte  withdrew  from  the  hiding 
place,  where  she  preciously  kept  it,  the  letter  which  Mar- 
ius had  confided  to  her,  enjoining  her  not  to  open  it  until 
she  was  sure  that  he  would  not  return.  It  was  very  volu- 
minous, enclosed  in  an  envelope  of  thick  paper,  sealed 
with  red  wax,  bearing  the  arms  of  the  Tregars  ;  and  she 
had  often  wondered  what  it  could  possibly  contain.  And 
now  she  shuddered  at  the  thought  that  she  had  perhaps 
the  right  to  open  it. 

There  was  no  one  of  whom  she  could  ask  a  word  of 
hope.  She  was  compelled  to  hide  her  tears,  and  try  to 
smile.  She  was  compelled  to  invent  pretexts  for  those 
who  expressed  their  wonder  at  seeing  her  exquisite  beauty 
withering  in  the  bud  ;  for  her  mother,  whose  anxiety  was 
without  limit  at  seeing  her  thus,  pale,  her  eyes  inflamed, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


107 


and  her  system  undermined  by  a  continuous  fever.  True, 
Marius,  on  leaving,  had  left  her  a  friend,  the  Count  de  Vil- 
legre  ;  and,  if  any  one  knew  anything,  he  certainly  did. 
But  she  could  see  no  way  of  hearing  from  him  without 
risking  her  secret.  To  write  to  him  was  easy  enough  since 
she  had  his  address.  But  where  could  she  ask  him  to 
direct  his  answer  1  Certainly  not  to  the  Rue  St.  Gilles. 
True,  she  might  go  to  him,  or  meet  him  somewhere  in  the 
neighbourhood.  But  how  could  she  go  out,  even  for  an 
hour,  without  exciting  Madame  Favoral's  suspicions  ? 
Sometimes  it  occurred  to  her  to  confide  in  Maxence,  who 
was  labouring  with  admirable  constancy  to  redeem  his 
past.  But  then  she  would  have  to  confess  the  truth, — 
confess  that  she,  Gilberte,  had  listened  to  the  words  of  a 
stranger,  met  by  chance  in  the  street,  and  that  she  looked 
forward  to  no  happiness  in  life  save  through  him.  She 
dared  not.  She  could  not  face  the  shame  of  such  a  posi- 
tion. 

She  was  on  the  verge  of  despair,  when  Signor  Pulci 
arrived  radiant,  exclaiming  from  the  very  threshold,  "  I 
have  news  !  And  at  once,  without  the  least  surprise  at 
the  awful  emotion  of  the  girl,  which  he  attributed  solely  to 
the  interest  she  felt  for  him,  he  continued  :  "  I  did  not 
get  it  direct,  but  through  a  respectable  signor  with  long 
moustaches  and  a  red  ribbon  at  his  button-hole,  who, 
having  received  a  letter  from  my  dear  pupil,  deigned  to 
come  to  my  room,  and  read  it  to  me." 

The  worthy  maestro  had  not  forgotten  a  single  word  of 
that  letter  ;  and  he  repeated  it  almost  literally.  Six  weeks 
after  enlisting,  his  pupil  had  been  promoted  corporal,  then 
sergeant,  then  lieutenant.  He  had  taken  part  in  all  the 
battles  of  the  army  of  the  Loire  without  receiving  a  scratch. 
But  at  the  battle  of  Le  Mans,  whilst  leading  back  his  men, 
who  were  giving  way,  he  received  two  bullets  in  the  breast. 
Carried  almost  dying  to  the  ambulance,  he  had  lingered 
three  weeks  between  life  and  death,  having  lost  all  conscious- 
ness. Twenty-four  hours  ago,  he  had  recovered  his 
senses  ;  and  he  took  the  first  opportunity  to  recall  himself 
to  the  affection  of  his  friends.  All  danger  was  over,  he 
scarcely  suffered  at  all ;  and  the  surgeon  had  told  him, 
that,  within  a  month,  he  would  be  up,  and  able  to  return 
to  Paris.  For  the  first  time  during  many  weeks,  Gilberte 
breathed  freely.    But  she  would  have  been  greatly  sur 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


prised,  had  she  been  told  that  a  day  was  drawing  neai 
when  she  wonld  bless  those  wounds  which  detained  Marius 
in  the  hospital.    And  yet  it  was  so. 

Madame  Favoral  and  her  daughter  were  alone,  one  even- 
ing, when  loud  clamours  arose  from  the  street.  In  the 
midst  of  the  noise  could  be  heard  drunken  voices  yelling 
the  refrains  of  revolutionary  songs,  accompanied  by  con- 
tinuous rumbling  sounds.  The  two  women  ran  to  the 
window.  The  National  Guards  had  just  taken  possession 
of  the  cannons  parked  in  the  Place  Royale.  The  reign  of 
the  Commune  had  commenced.  In  less  than  forty-eight 
hours,  people  came  to  regret  the  worst  days  of  the  siege. 
Without  commanders  to  direct  them,  the  honest  men  lost 
their  heads.  All  the  braves  who  had  returned  at  the  time 
of  the  armistice  had  again  taken  flight.  Soon  people  had 
to  hide  or  to  fly  to  avoid  being  incorporated  in  the  bat- 
talions of  the  Commune.  Night  and  day,  around  the  walls 
of  the  city,  the  musketiy  rattled,  and  the  artillery  thun- 
dered. Again  M.  Favoral  gave  up  going  to  his  office. 
Where  was  the  use  ?  Sometimes,  with  a  singular  look,  he 
would  say  to  his  wife  and  children  :  "  This  time  it  is 
indeed  a  liquidation.  Paris  is  lost !  And  they  must 
have  thought  so,  when  at  the  hour  of  the  supreme  struggle, 
among  the  detonations  of  the  artillery  and  the  explosion  of 
the  shells,  they  felt  their  house  shaking  to  its  very  founda- 
tions ;  when  in  the  midst  of  the  night  they  saw  their  apart- 
ment as  brilliantly  lighted  as  at  mid-day  by  the  fiames 
which  were  consuming  the  Hotel  de  Ville  and  the  houses 
around  the  Place  de  la  Bastille.  And,  in  fact,  the  rapid 
action  of  the  troops  alone  saved  Paris  from  destruction. 


XX. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  following  week,  matters  com- 
menced to  quiet  down  ;  and  Gilberte  learned  that  Marius 
had  returned. 

"  At  last  my  eyes  have  contemplated  him,  and  my  arms 
have  again  pressed  him  to  my  heart !  "  It  was  in  these 
terms  that  the  old  Italian,  all  vibrating  with  enthusiasm, 
and  with  his  most  terrible  accent,  announced  to  Mademoi- 
selle Gilberte  that  he  had  just  seen  that  famous  pupil  from 
whom  he  expected  both  glory  and  fortune.     "  But  how 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY.  109 

weak  he  is  still !  "  he  added,  "  and  how  he  suffers  from 
his  wounds.  I  hardly  recognised  him,  he  has  grown  so 
pale  and  so  thin." 

The  young  girl  however  was  no  longer  listening  to  him. 
A  flood  of  life  filled  her  heart.  This  moment  made  her 
forget  all  her  troubles  and  all  her  anguish.  "  And  I  too," 
thought  she,  will  see  him.  again  to-day."  And,  with  the 
unerring  instinct  of  the  woman  who  loves,  she  calculated 
the  moment  when  Marius  would  appear  in  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles.  It  would  probably  be  about  nightfall,  like  the 
other  time,  when  he  was  going  away ;  towards  eight 
o'clock,  for  the  days  just  then  were  about  the  longest  in 
the  year.  Now  it  so  happened,  that,  on  that  evening, 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte  expected  to  be  alone  at  home.  It 
had  been  arranged  that  after  dinner  her  mother  would  call 
on  Madame  Desclavettes,  who  was  in  bed,  half  dead  of 
the  fright  she  had  had  during  the  last  moments  of  the 
Commune.  She  would  therefore  be  free,  and  would  not 
have  to  invent  some  pretext  to  go  out  for  a  few  moments. 
She  could  not  help,  however,  but  feel  that  this  was  a  bold 
and  most  venturesome  step  for  her  to  take  ;  and,  when  her 
mother  went  out,  she  had  not  yet  fully  decided  what  to  do. 
But  her  bonnet  was  within  reach,  and  Marius's  letter  was 
in  her  pocket.  She  went  and  sat  at  the  window.  The 
street  was  solitary  and  silent  as  usual  at  that  hour.  Night 
was  coming  ;  and  heavy  black  clouds  floated  over  Paris. 
The  heat  was  overpowering  :  there  was  not  a  breath  of  air. 
One  by  one,  as  the  hour  when  she  expected  to  see 
Marius  approached,  the  young  girl's  hesitations  vanished 
like  smoke.  She  feared  but  one  thing,— that  he  would 
not  come,  or  that  he  might  already  have  come  and  left, 
without  succeeding  in  seeing  her. 

Already  did  the  objects  in  the  street  become  less  dis- 
tinct ;  and  the  gas  was  being  lit  in  the  backshops,  when 
she  recognised  him  on  the  other  side  of  the  way.  He 
looked  up  as  he  went  by  ;  and,  without  stopping  he  made 
a  rapid  gesture,  which  she  alone  could  understand,  and, 
which  meant,  Come,  I  beseech  you  !  "  Her  heart  beat- 
ing  loud  enough  to  be  heard,  Gilberte  ran  down  stairs.  But 
it  was  only  when  she  found  herself  in  the  street  that  she  could 
appreciate  the  magnitude  of  the  risk  she  was  running. 
Concierges  and  shopkeepers  were  all  sitting  in  front  of 
their  doors,  enjoying  the  fresh  air.   All  knew  her.  Would 


no 


OTHER  PEOPLES  MONEY, 


they  not  be  surprised  at  seeing  her  out  alone  at  such  ar 
hour  ?  She  could  see  Marius  at  a  short  distance  in  front. 
But  he  had  understood  the  danger  ;  and,  instead  of  turn- 
ing the  corner  of  the  Rue  des  Minimes,  he  followed  the 
Rue  St.  Gilles,  and  only  stopped  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Boulevard  Beaumarchais.  Then  only  did  Gilberte  join 
him  ;  and  she  could  not  withhold  an  exclamation,  when 
she  saw  that  he  was  as  pale  as  a  corpse,  and  scarcely  able 
to  stand  up  and  walk. 

How  imprudent  of  you  to  return  so  soon  !  "  she  said. 
A  slight  flush  came  to  M.  de  Tregars's  cheeks.  His 
face  brightened  up,  and,  in  a  voice  quivering  with  sup- 
pressed passion,  he  murmured  :  It  would  have  been  more 
imprudent  still  to  stay  away.  Far  from  you,  I  felt  myself 
dying." 

They  were  both  leaning  against  the  shutters  of  a  shop  ; 
and  they  were  as  though  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  throng 
that  circulated  on  the  Boulevards,  busy  looking  at  the  fear- 
ful wrecks  of  the  Commune.  And  besides,"  continued 
Marius,  "  have  I,  then,  a  minute  to  lose  ?  I  asked  you  for 
three  years.  Fifteen  months  have  gone  by,  and  I  am  no 
better  off  than  on  the  first  day.  When  this  accursed  war 
broke  out,  all  my  arrangements  were  made.  I  was  certain 
to  accumulate  rapidly  a  sufficient  fortune  to  enable  me  to 
ask  for  your  hand  without  the  prospect  of  being  refused. 
Whereas  now — " 
Well  ? 

Now  everything  is  changed.  The  future  is  so  uncer- 
tain, that  no  one  is  willing  to  venture  his  capital.  Marcolet 
himself,  who  certainly  does  not  lack  boldness,  and  who  be- 
lieves firmly  in  the  success  of  our  enterprise,  was  saying 
only  yesterday, '  There  is  nothing  to  be  done  just  now :  we 
must  wait.' " 

His  voice  displayed  such  an  intensity  of  grief,  that  the 
young  girl  felt  the  tears  coming  to  her  eyes.  We  will 
wait  ^hen,"  she  said,  attempting  to  smile. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  shook  his  head.  "  Is  it  possible  ? " 
he  said.  "  Do  you  then  think  that  I  do  not  know  what  a 
life  you  lead  t  " 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  looked  up.  "  Have  I  ever  com^ 
plained  ?  "  she  asked  proudly. 

"  No.  Your  mother  and  yourself,  you  have  always  relig- 
iously kept  the  secret  of  your  sufferings  ;  and  it  was  only  a 


O  THER  PEOPLE'S  MONE  Y, 


III 


providential  accident  that  revealed  them  to  me.  But  I 
have  learnt  everything  at  last.  I  know  that  she  whom  I 
love  exclusively  and  with  all  the  power  of  my  soul  is  sub- 
jected to  the  most  odious  despotism,  insulted,  and  con- 
demned to  the  most  humiliating  privations.  And  I,  who 
would  give  my  life  for  her  a  thousand  times  over,  I  can 
do  nothing  for  her.  Money  raises  between  us  such  an 
insuperable  obstacle,  that  my  love  is  actually  an  offence. 
To  hear  from  her,  I  am  driven  to  make  use  of  accomplices. 
If  I  obtain  from  her  a  few  moments'  conversation,  I  run 
the  risk  of  compromising  her  reputation." 

Deeply  affected  by  his  emotion,  Gilberte  said  :  "  At  least, 
you  succeeded  in  delivering  me  from  M.  Costeclar." 

"  Yes,  I  was  fortunately  able  to  find  weapons  against  that 
scoundrel.  But  shall  I  find  some  against  all  others  who 
may  present  themselves  ?  Your  father  is  very  rich  ;  and 
there  are  plenty  of  men  for  whom  marriage  is  but  a  specu- 
lation like  any  other.  ' 

"  Do  you  doubt  me  ?  " 

"  Ah,  rather  would  I  doubt  myself  !  But  I  know  what 
cruel  trials  your  refusal  to  marry  M.  Costeclar  imposed  upon 
you ;  I  know  what  a  merciless  struggle  you  had  to  sustain. 
Another  pretender  may  come,  and  then — No,  no,  you  see 
that  we  cannot  wait !  " 

"  What  would  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  know  not.  I  have  not  yet  decided  upon  my  future 
course.  And  yet  heaven  knows  what  have  been  the  la- 
bours of  my  mind  during  the  long  months  I  have  just  spent 
upon  an  ambulance  bed, — that  month  during  which  you 
were  my  only  thought.  Ah  !  when  I  think  of  it,  I  cannot 
find  words  to  curse  the  recklessness  with  which  I  gave  up 
my  fortune." 

The  young  girl  drew  back  a  step,  as  if  she  had  heard 
blasphemy.  "  It  is  impossible,"  she  exclaimed,  that  you 
can  regret  having  paid  what  your  father  owed." 

A  bitter  smile  contracted  M.  de  Tregars's  lips.  ^^And 
suppose  I  were  to  tell  you,"  he  replied,  that  my  father  in 
reality  owed  nothing." 

"  Oh!" 

"  Suppose  I  told  you  they  took  from  him  his  entire  for- 
tune, over  two  millions,  as  audaciously  as  a  pickpocket  robs 
a  man  of  his  handkerchief  ?  Suppose  I  told  you,  that,  in 
his  loyal  simplicity,  he  was  but  a  man  of  straw  in  the  hands 


112 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


of  skilful  knaves?  Have  you  forgotten  what  Count  de 
Villegre  said  ? " 

Gilberte  had  forgotten  nothing.  "  Count  de  Villegre," 
she  replied,  "  pretended  that  there  vv^as  still  time  enough  to 
compel  the  men  who  had  robbed  your  father  to  disgorge." 

"  Exactly  !  exclaimed  Marius.  And  now  I  am  deter- 
mined to  make  them  do  so.'' 

During  this  conversation  night  had  come.  Lights  ap- 
peared in  the  shop  windows  ;  and  the  gas  lamps  were  be- 
ing lit  along  the  Boulevard.  Alarmed  by  this  sudden  illu- 
mination, M.  de  Tregars  led  Gilberte  to  a  more  obscure 
spot,  close  to  the  steps  that  descend  to  the  Rue  Amelot; 
and  then,  leaning  against  the  iron  railing,  he  continued. 
"  Already,  at  the  time  of  my  father's  death,  I  suspected  the 
abominable  tricks  of  which  he  was  the  victim.  I  thought 
it  unworthy  of  me  to  verify  my  suspicions.  I  was  alone  in 
the  world  :  my  wants  were  few.  I  was  fully  convinced  that 
my  researches  would  give  me,  within  "a  brief  time,  a  much 
larger  fortune  than  the  one  I  gave  up.  I  found  something 
noble  and  grand,  and  which  flattered  my  vanity,  in  thus 
abandoning  everything,  without  discussion,  without  litiga- 
tion, and  in  consummating  my  ruin  with  a  dash  of  my  pen. 
Among  my  friends  Count  de  Villegre  alone  had  the  courage 
to  tell  me  that  this  was  a  guilty  piece  of  folly  ;  that  the  silence 
of  the  dupes  is  the  strength  of  the  knaves  ;  that  my  disdain, 
which  made  the  rascals  rich,  would  make  them  laugh  too. 
I  replied  that  I  did  not  wish  to  see  the  name  of  Tregars 
dragged  into  court  in  a  scandalous  law-suit,  and  that  to 
preserve  a  dignified  silence  was  to  honour  my  father's 
memory.  Treble  fool  that  I  was  1  The  only  way  to  hon- 
our my  father's  memory  was  to  avenge  him,  to  wrest  his 
spoils  from  the  scoundrels  who  had  caused  his  death.  I 
see  it  clearly  to-day.  But  before  undertaking  anything, 
Gilberte,  I  wished  to  consult  you." 

The  young  girl  was  listening  with  the  most  intense  atten- 
tion. She  had  come  to  mingle  her  future  life  and  that  of 
M.  de  Tregars  so  completely  in  her  thoughts,  that  she  saw 
nothing  unusual  in  the  fact  of  his  consulting  her  upon 
matters  affecting  their  prospects,  and  of  seeing  herself 
standing  there  deliberating  with  him.  "  You  will  require 
proofs,"  she  suggested. 

I  have  none,  unfortunately,"  replied  M.  de  Tregars ; 
at  least,  none  sufficiently  positive,  and  such  as  are  re- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"3 


quired  by  courts  of  law.  But  I  think  I  can  obtain  them. 
My  former  suspicions  have  become  a  certainty.  The 
same  good  luck  that  enabled  me  to  deliver  you  of  M. 
Costeclar's  persecution,  also  placed  the  most  valuable  in- 
formation in  my  hands. 

"Then  you  must  act,"  said  Gilberte  resolutely. 

Marius  hesitated  for  a  moment,  as  if  seeking  words  to 
convey  what  he  still  had  to  say.  At  length  he  resumed  : 
"  It  is  my  duty  to  conceal  nothing  from  you.  My  task  is 
a  heavy  one.  The  obscure  schemers  of  ten  years  ago  have 
become  big  financiers,  intrenched  behind  their  money-bags 
as  behind  an  impregnable  fort.  Formerly  isolated,  they 
have  managed  to  gather  around  them  powerful  interests, 
accomplices  high  in  office,  and  friends  whose  commanding- 
situation  protects  them.  Having  succeeded,  they  are  ab- 
solved. They  have  in  their  favour  what  is  called  public 
consideration,  that  idiotic  thmg  which  is  made  up  of  the 
admiration  of  fools,  the  approbation  of  knaves,  and  the 
concert  of  all  interested  vanities.  When  they  pass  by 
their  horses  at  full  trot,  their  carriages  raising  a  cloud  of 
dust,  insolent,  impudent,  swelled  with  the  vulgar  fatuity 
of  wealth,  people  bow  to  the  ground,  and  say,  '  Those  are 
smart  fellows  ! '  And  in  fact,  yes  ;  through  skill  or  luck, 
they  have  hitherto  avoided  the  police-courts  where  so 
many  others  have  come  to  grief.  Those  who  despise  them, 
fear  them,  and  shake  hands  with  them.  Moreover,  they  are 
rich  enough  not  to  steal  any  more  themselves.  The  em- 
ploy others  to  do  that.  I  take  Heaven  to  witness  that 
never  until  lately  had  the  idea  come  to  me  to  disturb  in 
their  possessions  the  men  who  robbed  my  father.  Alone, 
what  need  had  I  of  money  ?  Later  on,  my  friend  !  I 
thought  I  could  succeed  in  amassing  the  fortune  I  needed 
to  obtain  your  hand.  You  had  promised  to  wait ;  and  I 
was  happy  to  think  that  I  should  owe  you  to  my  sole  ex- 
ertions. Events  have  crushed  my  hopes.  I  am  to  day 
compelled  to  acknowledge  that  all  my  efforts  would  be  in 
vain.  To  wait  would  be  to  run  the  risk  of  losing  you. 
Therefore  I  hesitate  no  longer.  I  want  what's  mine  :  I  wish 
to  recover  that  of  which  I  have  been  robbed.  Whatever  1 
may  do, — for,  alas  !  I  know  not  to  what  I  may  be  driven, 
what  part  I  may  have  to  play, — remember  that  of  all  my 
acts,  of  all  my  thoughts,  there  will  not  be  a  single  one 
8 


114 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


that  does  not  aim  to  bring  nearer  the  blessed  day  when 
you  shall  become  my  wife." 

There  was  in  his  voice  so  much  unspeakable  affection, 
that  the  young  girl  could  hardly  restrain  her  tears. 
"  Never,  Marius,  whatever  may  happen,  shall  I  doubt  you/' 
she  exclaimed. 

He  took  her  hands,  and,  pressing  them  passionately 
within  his,  he  cried  :  "And  I  swear,  that,  sustained  by  the 
thought  of  you,  there  is  no  disgust  that  I  will  not  overcome, 
no  obstacle  that  I  will  not  overthrow."  He  spoke  so  loud, 
that  two  or  three  persons  stopped.  He  noticed  it,  and 
was  brought  suddenly  from  sentiment  to  reality.  "  Un- 
happy lovers  that  we  are,"  he  said  in  a  low,  quick  voice, 
"  we  forget  what  this  interview  may  cost  us  !  " 

He  hastily  led  Gilberte  across  the  Boulevard ;  and, 
whilst  making  their  way  to  the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  through  the 
more  deserted  streets,  he  resumed :  "  We  have  been  very 
imprudent,  but  it  was  indispensable  that  we  should  see 
each  other ;  and  we  had  not  the  choice  of  means.  Now, 
and  for  a  long  time,  we  shall  be  separated.  Everything 
you  wish  me  to  know  concerning  yourself,  tell  to  that 
worthy  Gismondo,  who  repeats  faithfully  to  me  every  word 
you  utter.  Through  him,  also,  you  shall  hear  from  me. 
Twice  a  week,  on  Tuesdays  and  Fridays,  about  dusk,  I 
will  pass  by  your  house  ;  and  if  I  am  lucky  enough  to  have  a 
glimpse  of  you,  I  shall  return  home  fired  with  fresh  energy. 
Should  anything  extraordinary  have  happened,  beckon  to 
me,  and  I  will  wait  for  you  in  the  Rue  des  Minimes.  But 
this  is  an  expedient  which  we  must  only  use  with  great 
circumspection.  I  should  never  forgive  myself,  were  I  to 
compromise  your  fair  name." 

They  approached  the  Rue  St.  Gilles.  Marius  stopped. 
**We  must  part,"  he  murmured. 

But  only  then  did  Gilberte  remember  M.  de  Tregars's 
letter,  to  return  which  was  her  excuse  for  meeting  him. 
She  took  it  from  her  pocket,  and  handing  it  to  him,  she 
said :  "  Here  is  the  package  you  left  with  me." 

"  No,"  he  answered,  repelling  her  gently,  "  keep  that 
letter  :  it  must  never  be  opened  now,  except  by  the  Mar- 
chioness de  Tregars."  And  raising  her  hand  to  his  lips, 
he  added,  in  a  deeply  agitated  voice  :  "  Farewell !  Have 
courage,  and  have  hope." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


XXI. 

GiLBERTE  was  soon  far  away ;  yet  Marius  de  Tregars 
remained  motionless  at  the  corner  of  the  street,  following 
her  with  his  eyes  through  the  dim  twilight.  She  walked 
quickly,  stumbling  along  the'badly-paved  side-walk.  Away 
from  Marius,  her  mind  as  it  were  returned  to  earth  from  the 
world  of  dreams.  The  deceiving  illusion  had  vanished, 
and,  once  again  in  the  world  of  sad  reality,  she  became 
seized  with  anxiety.  How  long  had  she  been  away  from 
home  !  She  knew  not,  and  was  unable  to  find  out.  But  it 
was  evidently  late  ;  for  many  of  the  shops  were  shut.  At 
length  she  reached  the  house.  Stepping  back,  and  look- 
ing at  the  windows,  she  saw  that  the  drawing-room  was  lit 
up.  "  Mother  has  returned,''  she  thought,  trembling  with 
apprehension.  She  hurried  upstairs,  nevertheless ;  and, 
just  as  she  reached  the  landing,  Madame  Favoral  opened 
the  door,  preparing  to  go  down. 

"  At  last  you  are  restored  to  me  !  "  exclaimed  the  poor 
mother,  whose  sinister  apprehensions  were  revealed  by 
that  single  exclamation.  I  was  going  out  to  look  for  you 
at  random,  in  the  streets,  anywhere."  And,  drawing  her 
daughter  inside,  she  clasped  her  in  her  arms  with  convulsiye 
tenderness,  exclaiming  :  "  Where  were  you  ?  Where  do  you 
come  from  Do  you  know  that  it  is  long  past  nine 
o'clock  ? " 

Such  had  been  Gilberte's  state  of  mind  during  the  whole 
of  that  evening  that  she  had  not  even  thought  of  finding 
some  reason  for  her  absence.  Now  it  was  too  late.  Besides, 
what  explanation  would  have  been  plausible  ?  Therefore, 
instead  of  giving  a  direct  answer,  she  said,  with  a  forced 
smile :  "  Why,  dear  mother,  has  it  not  often  happened 
that  I  have  gone  out  like  this  " 

But  Madame  Favoral's  confiding  credulity  was  gone  for 
ever.  "  I  have  been  blind,  Gilberte,"  she  interrupted  ; 
"but  this  time  my  eyes  open  to  evidence.  There  is  a 
mystery  in  your  life,  something  extraordinary,  which  I  dare 
not  try  to  guess." 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  drew  herself  up,  and,  looking 
her  mother  straight  in  the  face,  with  her  beautiful,  clear 
glance,  she  exclaimed  :  "  Do  you  suspect  me  of  doing  some* 
thing  wrong,  then  ?  " 


ii6  OTHER  PEOPLES  MONEY, 

Madame  Favoral  stopped  her  with  a  gesture.  "  A  young 
girl  who  conceals  anything  from  her  mother  always  does 
wrong/'  she  replied.  "  It  is  a  long  while  since  I  first  had 
a  presentiment  that  you  were  hiding  something  from  me. 
But,  when  I  questioned  you,  you  succeeded  in  quieting  my 
suspicions.  You  abused  both  my  confidence  and  my  weak- 
ness." 

This  was  the  crudest  reproach  that  could  be  addressed 
to  Mademoiselle  Gilberte.    The  blood  rushed  to  her  face, 
and,  in  a  firm  voice,  she  said  :  "  Well,  yes,  I  have  a  secret !  " 
My  child  !  " 

"  And,  if  I  have  not  confided  in  you,  it  is  because  it  is 
also  the  secret  of  another.  Yes,  I  confess,  I  have  been 
imprudent  in  the  extreme  ;  I  have  stepped  beyond  all  the 
limits  of  propriety  and  social  custom  ;  I  have  exposed  my- 
self to  the  worst  calumnies.  But  I  assure  you,  I  have 
never  done  anything  with  which  my  conscience  can  re- 
proach me,  anything  that  I  may  have  to  blush  for,  any- 
thing that  I  regret,  anything  that  I  am  not  ready  to  do 
again  to-morrow." 

"  Gilberte  !  " 

"  I  said  nothing,  'tis  true  ;  but  it  was  my  duty.  Alone 
I  had  to  suffer  the  responsibility  of  my  acts.  Having 
alone  freely  engaged  my  future,  I  wished  to  bear  alone  the 
weight  of  my  anxiety.  I  should  never  have  forgiven  my- 
self for  having  added  this  new  care  to  all  your  other 
"^roubles." 

Madame  Favoral  stood  dismayed.  Big  tears  rolled 
down  her  withered  cheeks.  Don't  you  see,  then,"  she 
stammered,  "  that  all  my  past  suffering  is  as  nothing  com- 
pared to  what  I  endure  to-day  1  Good  heavens  !  what 
have  I  ever  done  to  deserve  so  many  trials  ?  Am  I  to  be 
spared  none  of  the  troubles  of  this  world  t  And  it  is 
through  my  own  daughter  that  I  am  the  most  cruellj 
stricken  !  " 

This  was  more  than  Gilberte  could  bear.  Her  heart 
was  breaking  at  the  sight  of  her  mother's  emotion. 
Throwing  her  arms  around  her  neck,  she  murmured,  as 
she  kissed  away  the  tears  :  "  Mother,  darling  mother,  I 
beg  of  you  do  not  w^eep  thus  !  Speak  to  me  !  What  do 
you  wish  me  to  do  ? " 

The  poor  woman  disengaged  herself.  "TeU  me  the 
truth,"  she  answered. 


A. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


117 


Was  it  not  certain  that  this  was  the  very  thing  she 
would  ask  ;  in  fact,  the  only  thing  she  could  ask  ?  Ah ! 
how  much  would  the  young  girl  have  preferred  one  of  her 
father's  violent  scenes  and  his  brutality  which  would  have 
exalted  her  energy,  instead  of  crushing  it !  Attempting  to 
gain  time,  she  said  :  "  Well,  yes,  I'll  tell  you  everything, 
mother,  but  not  now,  to-morrow,  later."  She  was  about 
to  yield,  however,  when  her  father's  arrival  put  an  end  to 
their  conversation. 

The  cashier  was  quite  lively  that  night.  He  was  hum- 
ming a  tune,  a  thing  which  did  not  happen  to  him  four 
times  a-year,  and  which  was  indicative  of  the  most  extreme 
satisfaction.  But  he  suddenly  stopped  at  the  sight  of  the 
disturbed  looks  of  his  wife  and  daughter.  What  is  the 
matter  ?  "  he  inquired. 

Nothing,"  hastily  answered  Mademoiselle  Gilberte, 
"  nothing  at  all,  father." 

Then  you  are  crying  for  your  amusement,"  he  said. 
"  Come,  be  candid  for  once,  and  confess  that  Maxence 
has  been  at  his  tricks  again !  " 

"  You  are  mistaken,  father,  I  assure  you  ! " 

He  asked  no  further  questions,  being  in  his  nature  not 
very  curious,  either  because  home  matters  were  of  such 
little  consequence  to  him,  or  because  he  had  a  vague  idea 
that  his  general  behaviour  towards  his  family  deprived 
him  of  all  right  to  their  confidence.  "  Very  well,  then," 
he  said  in  a  gruff  tone,  let  us  all  go  to  bed.  I  have 
worked  so  hard  to-day,  that  I  am  quite  knocked  up. 
People  who  pretend  that  business  is  dull  make  me  laugh. 
Never  has  M.  de  Thaller  been  m  the  way  of  making  so 
much  money  as  now." 

When  he  spoke,  they  obeyed.  So  that  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte  found  she  had  the  whole  night  before  her  to  re- 
cover from  her  emotion,  to  pass  over  in  her  mind  the 
events  of  the  evening,  and  deliberate  coolly  upon  the  de- 
cision she  must  come  to  ;  for  she  could  not  doubt  but  that 
Madame  Favoral  would,  the  very  next  day,  renew  her  ques- 
tions. What  should  she  say  ?  Avow  everything  ?  Gil- 
berte's  heart  prompted  her  to  do  so :  as  did  also  the  cer- 
tainty of  indulgent  complicity,  and  the  thought  of  finding 
in  a  sympathetic  soul  the  echo  of  her  joys,  of  her  troubles, 
and  of  her  hopes.  Yes.  But  Madame  Favoral  was  still 
the  same  weak  woman,  whose  firmest  resolutions  vanished 


ii8 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


beneath  her  husband's  gaze.  Let  another  pretendei 
come  ;  let  another  struggle  begin,  as  with  M.  Costeclar, 
— ^would  she  have  strength  enough  to  remain  silent  ?  No  ! 
Then  there  would  be  a  fearful  scene  with  M.  Favoral.  He 
might,  perhaps,  even  go  to  M.  de  Tregars.  What  a  scart 
dal  !  For  he  was  a  man  who  spared  no  one  ;  and  then  a 
new  obstacle  would  rise  between  them,  more  insurmounta- 
ble still  than  the  others.  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  thought, 
too,  of  her  lover's  projects ;  of  that  terrible  game  he  was 
about  to  play,  the  issue  of  which  was  to  decide  their  fate. 
He  had  said  enough  to  make  her  understand  all  its  perils, 
and  that  a  single  indiscretion  might  suffice  to  set  at  nought 
the  result  of  many  months'  labour  and  patience.  Besides, 
to  speak,  was  it  not  to  abuse  his  confidence  How  could 
she  expect  another  to  keep  a  secret  she  had  been  unable 
to  keep  herself  ? 

At  last,  after  protracted  and  painful  hesitations,  she  de- 
cided that  she  was  bound  to  silence,  and  that  she  would 
only  vouchsafe  the  vaguest  explanations.  It  was  in  vain, 
then,  that,  on  the  next  and  following  days,  Madame  Favo- 
ral tried  to  obtain  that  confession  which  she  had  seen,  as 
it  were,  rise  to  her  daughter's  lips.  To  her  passionate  ad- 
jurations, to  her  tears,  to  her  ruses  even,  Gilberte  inva- 
riably opposed  equivocal  answers,  a  story  through  which 
nothing  could  be  guessed,  save  one  of  those  childish  ro- 
mances which  stop  at  the  preface,  a  school-girl  love 
for  a  chimerical  hero.  There  was  nothing  in  this  very  re- 
assuring to  a  mother ;  and  Madame  Favoral  knew  her 
daughter  too  well  to  hope  to  conquer  her  invincible  obsti- 
nacy. She  insisted  no  more,  appeared  convinced,  but 
resolved  to  exercise  the  utmost  vigilance.  In  vain,  how- 
ever, did  she  display  all  the  penetration  of  which  she  was 
capable.  The  severest  attention  did  not  reveal  to  her  a 
single  suspicious  fact,  not  a  circumstance  from  which 
she  could  draw  an  induction,  until,  at  last,  she  thought 
she  must  have  been  mistaken.  The  fact  is,  that  Gilberte 
had  not  been  long  in  noticing  that  she  was  watched  ; 
and  she  observed  her  own  behaviour  with  a  tenacious  cir- 
cumspection that  could  hardly  have  been  expected  of  her 
resolute  nature  impatient  of  all  control.  She  trained 
herself  to  a  sort  of  cheerful  carelessness,  to  which  she 
strictly  adhered,  studying  every  expression  of  her  counte- 
nance, and  avoiding  carefully  those  hours  of  vague  reverie 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


irg 


in  which  she  formerly  indulged.  For  two  successive  weeks, 
fearing  to  be  betrayed  by  her  looks,  she  had  the  courage 
not  to  show  herself  at  the  window  at  the  hour  when  she 
knew  Marius  would  pass.  She  was,  however,  very  minutely 
informed  of  the  different  events  of  the  campaign  under- 
taken by  M.  de  Tregars. 

More  enthusiastic  than  ever  about  his  pupil,  Signor 
Gismondo  Pulci  never  tired  of  singing  his  praises,  and 
with  such  pomp  of  expression,  and  so  curious  an  exuberance 
of  gesticulation,  that  Madame  Favoral  was  much  amused; 
and,  on  the  days  when  she  was  present  at  her  daughter's 
lesson,  she  was  the  first  to  inquire,  ^'  Well,  how  is  that 
famous  pupil  of  yours  ?  " 

And,  according  to  what  Marius  had  told  him,  the  candid 
maestro  answered :  He  is  swimming  in  the  greatest 
satisfaction.  Everything  succeeds  miraculously  well,  and 
much  beyond  his  hopes.''  Or  else,  knitting  his  brows, 
he  would  say  :  "  He  was  sad  yesterday,  owing  to  an  unex- 
pected disappointment ;  but  he  does  not  lose  courage.  We 
shall  succeed." 

The  young  girl  could  not  help  smiling  to  see  her 
mother  thus  assisting  Signor  Gismondo's  unconscious  com- 
plicity. Then  she  reproached  herself  for  having  smiled, 
and  for  having  thus  come,  through  a  gradual  and  fatal  de- 
scent, to  laugh  at  a  duplicity  for  which  she  could  have 
blushed  in  former  times.  In  spite  of  herself,  however,  she 
took  a  passionate  interest  in  the  game  that  was  being, 
played  between  her  mother  and  herself,  and  of  which 
her  secret  was  the  stake.  It  was  an  ever-palpitating  inter- 
est in  her  hitherto  monotonous  life,  and  a  source  of 
constantly-renewed  emotions.  The  days  became  wrecks, 
and  the  weeks  months  ;  and  Madame  Favoral  relaxed  her 
useless  surveillance,  and,  little  by  little,  gave  it  up  almost 
entirely.  She  still  thought,  that,  at  a  certain  moment, 
something  unusual  had  occurred  to  her  daughter  ;  but  she  felt 
persuaded,  that,  whatever  that  was,  it  had  been  forgotten. 
So  that,  on  the  stated  days,  Gilberte  could  go  and  lean  upon 
the  window-sill,  without  fear  of  being  called  to  account  for  the 
emotion  which  she  felt  when  M.  de  Tregars  appeared.  At 
the  expected  hour,  invariably,  and  with  a  punctuality  to  shame 
M.  Favoral  himself,  he  turned  the  corner  of  the  Rue  de 
Turenne,  exchanged  a  rapid  glance  wdth  the  young  girl,  and 
passed  on.    His  health  was  completely  restored  :  and  with 


120 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


it  he  had  recovered  that  graceful  virility  which  results 
from  the  perfect  blending  of  suppleness  and  strength. 
But  he  no  longer  wore  the  plain  garments  of  former  days. 
He  was  dressed  now  with  that  elegant  simplicity  which  re- 
veals at  first  sight  that  rarest  of  objects, — a  perfect  gentle- 
man." And,  whilst  she  followed  him  with  her  eyes  as  he 
walked  toward  the  Boulevard  Beaumarchais,  the  young  girl 
experienced  feelings  of  joy  and  pride  rise  from  the  bottom  of 
her  soul.  Who  would  ever  imagine,"  thought  she,  "  that 
that  young  gentleman  walking  away  yonder  is  my  affianced 
husband,  and  that  the  day  is  perhaps  not  far  off,  when, 
havmg  become  his  wife,  I  shall  lean  upon  his  arm.  Who 
would  think  that  all  my  thoughts  belong  to  him,  that  it  is 
for  my  sake  that  he  has  given  up  the  ambition  of  his  life,  and 
has  now  another  end  in  view  t  Who  would  suspect  that  it 
is  for  Gilberte  Favoral's  sake  that  the  Marquis  de  Tregars  is 
walking  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  ? "  And,  indeed,  Marius  did 
deserve  some  credit  for  these  walks ;  for  winter  had  set  in. 
spreading  a  thick  coat  of  mud  over  the  pavement  of  all 
those  streets  which  are  always  forgotten  by  the  street- 
cleaners. 

The  cashier's  home  had  resumed  its  habits  of  before 
the  war  its  drowsy  monotony  scarcely  disturbed  by  the 
Saturday  dinners,  by  M.  Desclavette's  simplicity  or  old 
Desormeaux's  puns.  Maxence,  however,  no  longer  lived 
with  his  parents.  He  had  returned  to  Paris  immediately 
after  the  Commune  ;  and,  feeling  no  longer  in  the  humour 
to  submit  to  the  paternal  despotism,  he  had  taken  a  small 
apartment  on  the  Boulevard  du  Temple ;  but  at  the  press- 
ing instance  of  his  mother,  he  had  consented  to  cor^e 
every  night  to  dine  at  the  Rue  St.  Gilles.  Faithful  to  lus 
promise  he  was  working  ha'rd,  though  without  getting  on 
very  fast.  The  times  were  far  from  propitious ;  and  the 
opportunity,  which  he  had  so  often  allowed  to  escape,  did 
not  offer  itself  again.  For  lack  of  anything  better,  he  had 
kept  his  clerkship  at  the  railway ;  and,  as  two  hundred 
francs  a  month  were  not  sufficient  for  his  wants  he  spent 
a  portion  of  his  nights  copying  documents  for  M.  Chape- 
Iain's  successor. 

What  do  you  need  so  much  money  for  ?  "  his  mother 
said  to  him  when  she  noticed  his  eyes  a  little  red. 

"  Everything  is  so  dear !  "  he  answered  with  a  smile 


-A 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


121 


which  was  equivalent  to  a  confidence  and  yet  which 
Madame  Favoral  did  not  understand. 

He  had,  nevertheless,  managed  to  pay  all  his  debts, 
little  by  little.  The  day  v/hen,  at  last,  he  held  in  his  hand 
the  last  receipted  bill,  he  showed  it  proudly  to  his  father, 
begging  him  to  obtain  him  a  berth  in  the  Mutual  Credit 
Bank,  where  with  infinitely  less  trouble  he  could  earn  so 
much  more.  But  at  the  first  words  M.  Favoral  commenced 
to  giggle.  "  Do  you  take  me  for  a  fool,  like  your  mother  ?  " 
he  exclaimed.  "  And  do  you  think  I  don't  know  what 
sort  of  life  you  lead  ? 

"  My  life  is  that  of  a  poor  devil  who  works  as  hard  as 
he  can." 

"  Indeed  !  How  is  it,  then,  that  women  are  constantly 
seen  where  you  live,  whose  dresses  and  manners  are  a 
scandal  in  the  neighbourhood  t  " 

"  You  have  been  deceived,  father." 

"  I  have  seen." 

"  It  is  impossible.    Let  me  explain." 

"  No,  you  would  have  your  trouble  for  nothing.  You 
are,  and  you  will  ever  remain,  the  same  ;  and  it  would  be 
folly  on  my  part  to  introduce  into  an  ofiice  where  I  enjoy 
the  esteem  of  all,  a  fellow,  who,  some  day  or  other,  will 
be  fatally  dragged  into  the  mire  by  some  lost  creature." 

Such  discussions  were  not  calculated  to  make  the  rela- 
tions between  father  and  son  more  cordial.  Several  times 
M.  Favoral  had  insinuated,  that  since  Maxence  lodged 
away  from  home,  he  might  as  w^ell  dine  away  too.  And  he 
would  evidently  have  notified  him  to  do  so,  had  he  not 
been  prevented  bj  a  remnant  of  human  respect,  and  the 
fear  of  gossip.  On  the  other  hand,  the  bitter  regret  of 
the  future,  the  penury  of  the  moment,  all  the  unsatisfied 
desires  of  youth,  kept  Maxence  in  a  state  of  perpetual 
irritation.  The  excellent  Madame  Favoral  exhausted  all 
her  arguments  to  quiet  him.  Your  father  is  harsh  with 
us,"  she  said  ;  "  but  is  he  less  harsh  towards  himself  ? 
He  forgives  nothing  ;  but  he  has  never  needed  to  be  forgiven 
himself.  He  does  not  understand  youth,  for  he  has  never 
been  young  himself  :  at  twenty  he  was  as  grave  and  as 
cold  as  you  see  him  now.  How  can  he  understand  what 
pleasure  is,  he  who  has  never  taken  an  hour's  enjoy- 
ment ?" 

"  Have  I,  then,  been  guilty  of  some  crime,  to  be  thus 


122 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


treated  by  my  father  ?"  exclaimed  Maxence,  flushed  with 
anger.  "Our  existence  here  is  an  unheard-of  thing. 
You,  poor,  dear  mother  !  you  have  never  had  a  five-franc- 
piece  you  could  call  your  own.  Gilberte  spends  her  days 
turning  her  dresses,  after  having  had  them  dyed.  I  am 
driven  to  a  petty  clerkship.  And  my  father  has  fifty 
thousand  francs  a  year ! 

Such,  indeed,  was  the  figure  at  which  the  most  moderate 
estimated  M.  Favoral's  fortune.  M.  Chapelain,  who  was 
supposed  to  be  well  informed,  insinuated  freely  that  his 
friend  Vincent,  besides  being  the  head  cashier  of  the  Mu' 
tual  Credit  Bank,  must  also  be  one  of  its  principal  share» 
holders.  Now,  judging  from  the  dividend  which  had  just 
been  paid,  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  must,  since  the  war, 
have  realised  enormous  profits.  All  its  enterprises  had 
been  successful ;  and  it  was  on  the  point  of  negotiating  a 
foreign  loan  which  would  infallibly  fill  its  exchequer  to 
overflowing.  M.  Favoral,  moreover,  defended  himself  but 
feebly  from  these  accusations  of  concealed  opulence. 
When  M.  Desormeaux  said  to  him,  "  Come,  now,  between 
ourselves  candidly,  how  many  millions  have  you  ? he  had 
such  a  strange  way  of  affirming  that  people  were  very 
much  mistaken,  that  his  friends'  convictions  became  only 
the  more  settled.  And,  as  soon  as  they  had  a  few  thou- 
sand francs  of  savings,  they  promptly  brought  them  to 
him,  to  invest,  and  were  imitated  in  this  respect  by  a  goodly 
number  of  the  small  capitalists  of  the  neighbourhood,  who 
were  wont  to  remark  among  themselves :  "  That  man  is 
safer  than  the  Bank  ! Millionnaire  or  otherwise,  the 
cashier  became  daily  more  difficult  to  live  with.  If  stran* 
gers  who  had  but  a  superficial  intercourse  with  him,  if 
the  Saturday  guests  themselves,  noticed  no  appreciable 
change  in  him,  his  wife  and  his  children  followed  with 
anxious  surprise  the  modifications  of  his  humour.  Though 
outwardly  he  still  appeared  the  same  impassible,  pre- 
cise, and  grave  man,  he  showed  himself  at  home  more 
fretful  than  an  old  maid,  nervous,  agitated,  and  subject  to 
the  oddest  whims.  After  remaining  three  or  four  days 
without  saying  a  word,  he  would  suddenly  begin  to  speak 
upon  all  sorts  of  subjects  with  annoying  volubility.  Instead 
af  watering  his  wine  freely,  as  formerly  he  now  drank  it 
pure,  and  he  often  took  two  bottles  at  a  meal,  excusing 
himself  upon  the  necessity  that  he  felt  for  taking  some 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


Stimulant  after  excessive  work.  Then  he  would  be  seized 
with  fits  of  coarse  gaiety,  and  relate  objectionable  anecdotes, 
making  use  of  slang  expressions,  which  Maxence  alone 
could  understand. 

On  New  Year's  day  1872,  as  he  sat  down  to  breakfast, 
he  threw  on  the  table  a  roll  of  fifty  napoleons,  saying  to 
his  children  :  "  Here  is  your  New  Year's  present  !  Divide 
it  and  buy  anything  you  like."  And  as  they  were  staring 
at  him,  stupid  with  astonishment, — Well,  what  of  it  t  "  he 
added  with  an  oath.  Isn't  it  well,  once  in  a  while,  to 
scatter  the  coins  a  little  t " 

Those  unexpected  thousand  francs  Maxence  and  Gil- 
berte  applied  to  the  purchase  of  a  shawl,  which  their 
mother  had  longed  for  for  over  ten  years.  She  laughed 
and  she  cried  with  pleasure  and  emotion,  the  poor  woman  ; 
and,  whilst  draping  it  over  her  shoulders^  she  said  : 
"  Well,  well,  my  dear  children,  your  father,  after  all,  is  not 
an  unkind  man." 

Of  that,  however,  they  did  not  seem  at  all  convinced. 
"  What  is  more  certain,"  remarked  Mademoiselle  Gilberte, 
"is  that,  to  permit  himself  such  liberality,  papa  must  be 
awfully  rich." 

M.  lavoral  was  not  present  at  this  scene.  The  yearly 
accounts  kept  him  so  closely  confined  to  his  office,  that 
he  remained  forty-eight  hours  without  coming  home.  A 
journey  which  he  was  compelled  to  undertake  for  M.  de 
Thaller  occupied  the  rest  of  the  week.  But  on  his  return 
he  seemed  satisfied  and  tranquil.  Without  giving  up  his 
situation  at  the  bank,  he  was  about,  he  stated,  to  associate 
himself  with  the  Messrs.  Jottras,  M.  Saint  Pavin  of  "  The 
Financial  Pilot,"  and  M.  Costeclar,  to  undertake  the  con- 
struction of  a  foreign  railway.  M.  Costeclar  was  at  the 
head  of  this  enterprise,  the  enormous  profits  of  which 
were  so  certain  and  so  clear,  that  they  could  be  figured  in 
advance.  And,  whilst  on  this  same  subject,  he  said  to 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte.  "  You  were  very  foolish,  not  to 
make  haste  and  marry  Costeclar  when  he  was  willing  to 
have  you.  You  will  never  find  another  such  match.  A 
man  who,  in  less  than  ten  years,  will  be  a  financial  power." 

The  very  name  of  Costeclar  had  the  effect  of  irritating 
the  young  girl.  "  I  thought  you  were  no  longer  friends  ?  " 
she  observed  to  her  father. 

"  Very  true."  he  replied  with  some  embarrassment,  "  be* 


124 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


cause  he  would  never  tell  me  why  he  had  vdthdrawn  ;  but 
people  always  make  up  their  quarrels  when  they  have  in- 
terests in  common." 

Formerly,  before  the  war,  M.  Favoral  would  certainly 
never  have  condescended  to  enter  into  all  these  details. 
But  he  was  becoming  almost  communicative.  Mademoi- 
selle Gilberte,  who  observed  him  with  interested  attention, 
fancied  she  could  see  that  he  was  yielding  to  that  neces- 
sity for  expansion,  more  powerful  than  the  will  itself, 
which  besets  the  man  who  carries  within  him  a  weighty  se- 
cret. Whilst  for  twenty  years  he  had,  so  to  speak,  never 
breathed  a  word  on  the  subject  of  the  De  Thaller  family, 
he  now  continually  spoke  of  them.  He  told  his  Saturday 
guests  all  about  the  baron's  princely  style,  the  number  of 
his  servants  and  horses,  the  colour  of  his  liveries,  the  par- 
ties that  he  gave,  what  he  spent  for  pictures  and  objects 
of  art,  and  even  the  very  names  of  his  mistresses ;  for  the 
baron  had  too  much  respect  for  himself  not  to  lay  every 
year  a  few  thousand  napoleons  at  the  feet  of  some  young 
lady  sufficiently  conspicuous  to  be  mentioned  in  the  society 
newspapers.  M.  Favoral  admitted  that  he  did  not  ap- 
prove the  baron  ;  but  it  was  with  a  sort  of  bitter  hatred 
that  he  spoke  of  the  baroness.  It  was  impossible,  he  told 
his  guests,  to  estimate  even  approximately  the  fabulous 
sums  squandered  by  her,  scattered,  thrown  to  the  four 
winds.  For  she  was  not  merely  prodigal,  she  was  prodi- 
gality itself,  that  idiotic,  absurd,  unconscious  prodigality 
which  melts  a  fortune  with  a  turn  of  the  hand,  which  can- 
not even  obtain  from  money  the  satisfaction  of  a  single 
want,  wish,  or  fancy.  He  told  incredible  things  of  her, 
things  which  made  Madame  Desclavettes  jump  upon  her 
seat,  explaining  that  he  learned  all  these  details  from  M. 
de  Thaller,  who  had  often  commissioned  him  to  pay  his 
wife's  debts,  and  also  from  the  baroness  herself,  who  did 
not  hesitate  to  call  sometimes  at  the  office  for  twenty  francs ; 
for  such  was  her  want  of  order,  that,  after  borrowing  all 
the  savings  of  her  servants,  she  was  frequently  without  a 
copper  to  throw  to  a  beggar. 

Neither  did  the  cashier  seem  to  have  a  very  good  opin- 
ion of  Mademoiselle  de  Thaller.  Brought  up  at  hap-haz- 
ard,  in  the  kitchen  much  more  than  in  the  school-room, 
until  she  was  twelve  years  old,  and,  later  on,  dragged  by 
her  mother  no  matter  where  :  to  the  races,  to  first  nights  at 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


125 


the  theatres,  to  watering  places,  or  the  sea  side,  always  es- 
corted by  a  squadron  of  young  men  connected  with  the 
Bourse.  Mademoiselle  de  Thaller  had  adopted  a  style 
which  would  have  been  deemed  detestable  in  a  young 
man.  As  soon  as  some  questionable  fashion  appeared, 
she  appropriated  it  at  once,  never  finding  anything  eccen- 
tric enough  to  make  herself  conspicuous.  She  rode, 
fenced,  frequented  pigeon  shooting  matches,  spoke  slang, 
sang  Theresa's  songs,  neatly  emptied  her  glass  of  cham- 
pagne, and  smoked  her  cigarette.  The  guests  were  as- 
tounded. 

"  But  those  people  must  spend  millions  ! interrupted 
M.  Chapelain. 

M.  Favoral  started  as  if  he  had  been  slapped  on  the 
back.  "  Pooh  1 "  he  answered.  "  They  are  so  rich,  so  aw- 
fully rich  !  " 

He  changed  the  conversation  that  evening  ;  but  on  the 
following  Saturday,  at  the  beginning  of  dinner  he  said ;  "I 
believe,  that  M.  de  Thaller  has  just  discovered  a  husband 
for  his  daughter.'' 

"  My  compliments  !  "  exclaimed  M.  Desormeaux.  "  And 
who  may  this  bold  fellow  be  ?  " 

A  nobleman,  of  course,"  he  replied.  "  Isn't  that  the 
tradition  ?  As  soon  as  a  financier  has  made  his  little  mill- 
ion, he  starts  in  quest  of  a  ruined  nobleman  to  make  a 
husband  for  his  daughter." 

One  of  those  painful  presentiments,  such  as  arise  in  the 
inmost  recesses  of  the  soul,  caused  Gilberte  to  turn  pale. 
This  presentiment  suggested  to  her  an  absurd,  ridiculous, 
unlikely  thing,  and  yet  she  was  sure  that  it  would  not  de- 
ceive her ;  so  sure,  indeed,  that  she  rose  from  the  table  un- 
der the  pretext  of  looking  for  something  in  the  sideboard, 
but  in  reality  to  conceal  the  terrible  emotion  which  she  an- 
ticipated. 

"And  this  nobleman?"  inquired  M.  Chapelain, 

"  Is  a  marquis,  if  you  please, — the  Marquis  de  Tregars." 

Well,  yes,  it  was  this  very  name  that  Gilberte  was  ex- 
pecting, and  well  that  she  did  ;  for  she  was  thus  able  to 
command  enough  control  over  herself  to  check  the  cry  that 
rose  to  her  lips. 

"  But  this  marriage  is  not  settled  yet "  pursued  M, 
Favoral.  "  This  marquis  is  not  yet  so  completely  rumed, 
that  he  can  be  made  to  do  anything  they  please.  True, 


126 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


the  baroness  has  set  her  heart  upon  it,  oh  !  but  with  all 

her  might !  " 

A  discussion  arose  which  prevented  Gilberte  from  learn- 
ing any  more  ;  and  as  soon  as  the  dinner,  which  seemed 
eternal  to  her,  was  over,  she  complained  of  a  violent  head- 
ache, and  withdrew  to  her  room.  She  shook  with  fever ; 
her  teeth  chattered.  And  yet  she  could  not  believe  that 
Marius  was  betraying  her,  nor  that  he  could  have  the 
thought  of  marrying  such  a  girl  as  M.  Favoral  had  de- 
scribed, and  for  money  too !  No,  it  was  not  possible  ! 
Although  she  well  remembered  that  Marius  had  made  her 
swear  to  believe  nothing  that  might  be  said  of  him,  she 
spent  a  most  unhappy  Sunday,  and  she  felt  like  throwing 
herself  in  Signor  Gismondo^s  arms,  when,  in  giving  her  her 
lesson  on  the  Monday,  he  said  :  My  poor  pupil  is  utterly 
wretched.  Some  one  has  stated  that  he  is  about  to  marry 
a  person  of  whom  he  has  a  perfect  horror  ;  and  he  trembles 
lest  the  rumour  may  reach  his  intended  in  the  country, 
whom  he  loves  exclusively." 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  ought  to  have  felt  reassured  after 
that.  And  yet  in  her  heart  there  remained  an  invincible 
sadness.  She  could  hardly  doubt  that  this  matrimonial 
scheme  was  a  part  of  the  plan  devised  by  Marius  to  recover 
his  fortune.  But,  why,  then,  had  he  applied  to  M.  de 
Thaller  ?  Who  could  be  the  people  who  had  despoiled  the 
Marquis  de  Tregars  t  Such  were  the  thoughts  which  oc- 
cupied her  mind  on  that  Saturday  evening  when  the  com- 
missary of  police  presented  himself  at  the  house  of  the  Rue 
St.  Gilles  to  arrest  M.  Favoral,  charged  with  embezzling 
ten  or  twelve  millions.  For  the  hour  had  struck  for  the 
explanation  of  that  home  tragedy  which  was  being  enacted 
in  one  of  the  quietest  quarters  of  Paris. 


XXIL 

The  disaster  which  struck  Madame  Favoral  and  her 
children  had  been  so  sudden  and  so  crushing  that  they 
were,  at  the  moment,  too  amazed  to  realize  it.  What  had 
happened  went  so  far  beyond  the  limits  of  the  probable,  of 
the  possible  even,  that  they  could  not  beUeve  it.  The 
events  which  had  just  taken  place  were  to  them  like  the 
absurd  ?^cidents  of  a  horrible  nightmare.    But  when  their 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


127 


guests  had  retired  after  a  few  common-place  protestations, 
when  they  found  themselves  alone,  then  only,  as  the  dis- 
turbed equilibrium  of  their  minds  became  somewhat  re- 
stored, did  they  fully  understand  the  extent  of  the  disaster 
that  had  befallen  them,  and  the  horror  of  their  situation. 
Whilst  Madame  Favoral  lay  apparently  lifeless  in  an  arm- 
chair, with  Gilberte  kneeling  at  her  feet,  Maxence  paced 
up  and  down  the  room  with  furious  steps.  He  was  whiter 
than  the  plaster  on  the  ceiling,  and  a  cold  perspiration 
glued  his  tangled  hair  to  his  temples.  With  glistening 
eyes  and  clinched  fists  he  kept  repeating  in  a  hoarse 
voice  :  "  Our  father  a  thief  !    A  forger  !  " 

In  fact,  the  slightest  suspicion  had  never  arisen  in  hia 
mind.  In  those  days  of  doubtful  reputations,  he  had  been 
proud  indeed  of  M.  Favoral's  reputation  of  austere  integ- 
rity. And  he  had  endured  many  a  cruel  reproach,  saying 
to  himself  that  his  father  had,  by  his  own  spotless  conduct, 
acquired  the  right  to  be  harsh  and  exacting.  And  he. 
has  stolen  twelve  millions  !  "  he  exclaimed.  And  he  tried 
to  calculate  all  the  luxury  and  splendour  which  such  a  sum 
represents,  all  the  cravings  gratified,  all  the  dreams  real- 
ized, all  it  can  procure  of  things  that  may  be  bought. 
And  what  things  are  there  that  cannot  be  obtained  for 
twelve  millions  ?  Then  he  examined  their  gloomy  home 
In  the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  the  small  rooms,  the  faded  furniture, 
the  prodigies  of  a  parsimonious  industry,  his  mother's  pri- 
vations, his  sister's  penury,  and  his  own  distress.  And  be 
exclaimed  again  :     It  is  a  monstrous  infamy  1 

The  words  of  the  commissary  of  police  had  opened  his 
eyes  ;  and  he  now  imagined  the  most  extraordinary  things. 
In  his  mind  M.  Favoral  assumed  fabulous  proportions. 
By  what  miracles  of  hypocrisy  and  dissimulation  had  he 
succeeded  in  making  himself  ubiquitous  as  it  were,  and, 
without  awaking  a  suspicion,  living  two  lives  so  distinct  and 
so  different,  at  home,  in  the  midst  of  his  family,  parsimo- 
nious,  methodic,  and  severe ;  elsewhere,  in  some  illicit 
household,  doubtless,  pleasant,  smilmg,  and  generous,  like 
a  successful  thief.  For  Maxence  considered  the  invoices 
found  in  M.  Favoral's  secretary  a  flagrant,  irrefutable  and 
material  proof.  Upon  the  brink  of  that  abyss  of  shame 
into  which  his  father  had  just  tumbled,  he  thought  he 
could  see,  not  only  the  inevitable  woman,  that  incentive  of 
all  men's  actions,  but  the  entire  legion  of  those  bewitching 


128 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


courtesans  who  possess  unknown  crucibles  wherein  to 
melt  fortunes,  and  secret  filters  with  which  to  stupefy  their 
dupe-s,  and  strip  them  of  their  honour,  after  robbing  them 
of  their  last  sou. 

"And  I,''  said  Maxence,  "because  I  at  twenty  was  fond 
of  pleasure,  I  was  called  a  bad  son  !  Because  I  had  made 
a  few  hundred  francs  of  debts,  I  was  deemed  a  swindler  \ 
Because  I  love  a  poor  girl  who  entertains  for  me  the 
most  disinterested  affection,  I  am  one  of  those  rascals 
whom  their  family  disown,  and  from  whom  nothing  can  be 
expected  but  shame  and  disgrace  !  " 

He  filled  the  room  with  the  sound  of  his  voice,  which 
rose  with  his  wrath.  And  at  the  thought  of  all  the  bitter 
reproaches  which  had  been  addressed  to  him  by  his  father, 
and  of  all  the  humiliations  that  had  been  heaped  upon  him, 
he  fairly  shrieked  :  "  Ah,  the  wretch,  the  coward  !  " 

As  pale  as  her  brother,  her  face  bathed  in  tears,  and  her 
beautiful  hair  falling  over  her  shoulders,  Gilberte  rose  from 
the  ground.    "  He  is  our  father,  Maxence,"  she  said  gently. 

But  he  interrupted  her  with  a  wild  burst  of  laughter. 
"  True,"  he  answered ;  "  and,  according  to  the  law,  we 
owe  him  affection  and  respect." 

"  Maxence  !  "  murmured  the  young  girl  in  a  beseeching 
tone. 

But  he  went  on,  nevertheless.  "  Ves,  he  is  our  father^, 
unfortunately.  Yet  I  should  like  to  know  his  titles  to  our 
respect  and  our  atfection.  After  making  our  mother  the 
most  miserable  of  human  beings,  he  has  embittered  oui 
existence,  withered  our  youth,  ruined  my  future,  and  done 
his  best  to  spoil  yours  by  compelling  you  to  marry  Coste- 
clar.  And  to  crown  all  those  deeds  of  kindness,  he  run? 
away  now,  after  stealing  twelve  millions,  leaving  us  noth- 
ing but  poverty  and  a  disgraced  name." 

After  a  moment's  silence,  he  added:  "And  yet,  is  it 
possible  that  a  cashier  can  take  twelve  millions,  and  his 
employer  know  nothing  of  it  ?  And  is  our  father  really 
the  only  one  who  has  benefited  by  these  millions  ? " 

Then  came  back  to  the  minds  of  Maxence  and  Gilberte 
their  father's  last  words  at  the  moment  of  his  flight  :  "  1 
have  been  betrayed  ;  and  I  must  suffer  for  all  i  "  And 
his  sincerity  could  hardly  be  called  in  question,  for  he 
was  then  in  one  of  those  decisive  moments  in  which  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


129 


truth  forces  itself  out  in  spite  of  all  calculation.  "  He 
must  have  accomplices  then  ?  "  murmured  Maxence. 

Although  he  had  spoken  very  low,  Madame  Favoral 
overheard  him.  To  defend  her  husband,  she  found  a 
remnant  of  energy  and,  sitting  up  in  her  chair,  she  stam- 
mered forth  :  "  Ah !  do  not  doubt  it.  Left  to  himself 
your  father  would  never  have  done  wrong.  He  has  been 
circumvented,  led  astray,  duped  !  "  ' 

"  That  may  be,  but  by  whom  ?  " 
By  Costeclar  !  "  affirmed  Gilberte. 

"  By  the  Messrs.  Jottras,  the  bankers,''  said  Madame 
Favoral,  and  also  by  M.  Saint-Pavin,  the  editor  of  '  The 
Financial  Pilot.'  " 

"Yes!  and  by  all  of  them,  evidently,"  interrupted 
Maxence,  "  even  by  his  manager,  M.  de  Thaller  !  " 

When  a  man  is  at  the  bottom  of  a  precipice,  what  is  the 
use  of  finding  out  how  he  got  there,  whether  by  stumbling 
over  a  stone,  or  slipping  on  a  tuft  of  grass  !  And  yet  it 
is  always  our  foremost  thought.  It  was  with  an  eager 
obstinacy  that  Madame  Favoral  and  her  children  exam- 
ined the  whole  course  of  their  existence,  seeking  in  the 
past  the  incidents  and  the  merest  words  which  might 
throw  some  light  upon  their  misfortune  ;  for  it  was 
quite  manifest  that  it  was  not  in  one  day  and  at  the 
same  time  that  twelve  millions  had  been  stolen  from  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank.  This  enormous  deficit  must  have 
been,  as  usual,  withdrawn  gradually,  with  infinite  caution 
at  first,  whilst  there  was  the  intention,  and  the  hope^  of 
making  it  good  again  ;  then  with  mad  recklessness  to- 
wards the  end,  when  the  catastrophe  had  become  in- 
evitable. 

"  Alas  !  "  murmured  Madame  Favoral,  "  why  did  not  ^ 
your  father  Hsten  to  my  presentiments  on  that  ever  fatal 
day  when  he  brought  M.  de  Thaller,  M.  Jottras,  and  M, 
Saint-Pavin  to  dine  here  ?     They  promised  him  a  for- 
tune." 

Maxence  and  Gilberte  were  too  young  at  the  time  o{ 
that  dinner  to  have  preserved  any  recollection  of  it ;  but 
they  remembered  many  other  circumstances,  which  at 
the  time  they  had  taken  place,  had  not  struck  them. 
They  now  understood  their  father's  strange  behaviour, 
his  perpetual  irritation  and  his  spasmodic  temper.  When 
his  friends  were  heaping  insults  upon  him,  he  had  ex- 
9 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


claimed :  "  Be  it  so  !  let  them  arrest  me ;  and  to-nightj 
for  the  first  time  in  many  years,  I  shall  sleep  in  peace." 
There  were  years,  then,  that  he  had  lived  as  it  were 
upon  burning  coals,  trembling  at  the  fear  of  discovery, 
and  wondering,  as  he  went  to  sleep  each  night,  whether 
he  would  not  be  awakened  by  the  rude  hand  of  the  police 
tapping  him  on  the  shoulder. 

No  one  better  than  Madame  Favoral  could  affirm  it. 
"  Your  father,  my  children,"  she  said,  had  long  since 
lost  his  sleep.  There  was  hardly  ever  a  night  that  he  did 
not  get  up  and  walk  the  room  for  hours." 

They  understood,  now,  his  efforts  to  compel  Gilberte 
to  marry  M.  Costeclar.  He  thought  that  Costeclar 
would  help  him  out  of  the  scrape,"  suggested  Maxence  to 
his  sister. 

The  poor  girl  shuddered  at  the  thought,  and  she  could 
not  help  feeling  thankful  to  her  father  for  not  having 
told  her  his  situation  ;  for  would  she  have  had  the  sublime 
courage  to  refuse  to  sacrifice  herself  if  her  father  had 
said  to  her :  "  I  have  stolen !  I  am  lost !  Costeclaf 
alone  can  save  me ;  and  he  will  save  me  if  you  become 
his  wife." 

M.  FavoraFs  pleasant  behaviour  during  the  siege  was 
quite  natural.  Then  he  had  no  fears  ;  and  one  could 
understand,  how  in  the  most  critical  hours  of  the  Com- 
mune, when  Paris  was  in  flames,  he  had  exclaimed 
almost  cheerfully  :  Ah  !  this  time  it  is  indeed  the  final 
liquidation."  Doubtless,  in  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  he 
wished  that  Paris  might  be  destroyed,  and,  with  it,  the 
evidenc«ts  of  his  crime.  And  perhaps  he  was  not  the 
only  one  to  form  that  impious  wish. 

That's  why,  then,"  exclaimed  Maxence,  "that's  why 
my  father  treated  me  so  roughly  ;  that's  why  he  so  obsti- 
nately persisted  in  closing  the  doors  of  his  office  against 
me." 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  violent  ringing  of  the  door- 
bell. He  looked  at  the  clock ;  it  was  on  the  stroke  of 
ten.    "  Who  can  call  so  late  ?  "  asked  Madame  Favoral. 

Something  like  a  discussion  was  heard  on  the  landing, 
a  voice  hoarse  with  anger  and  the  servant's  voice.  "  Go 
and  see  who's  there,"  said  Gilberte  to  her  brother. 

It  was  useless  ;  the  servant  appeared.  It's  M.  Bertau/* 
she  commenced,  "  the  baker." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


He  had  followed  her,  and,  pushing  her  aside  with  his 
robust  arm,  he  appeared  himself.  He  was  a  man  about 
forty  years  of  age,  tall,  thin,  already  bald,  and  wearing 
his  beard  close  trimmed.      M.  Favoral  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  My  father  is  not  at  home,  sir,''  replied  Maxence. 

"  It's  true,  then,  what  I  have  just  been  told  ? " 

"  What  ? " 

"That  the  police  came  to  arrest  him,  and  he  escaped 
v\rough  a  window." 

"  It  is  true,"  replied  Maxence  gently. 

The  baker  seemed  astoiinded.  And  my  money,"  he 
asked. 

What  money  ?  " 

"  Why,  my  ten  thousand  francs  of  course  !  Ten  thou- 
sand francs  which  I  brought  to  M.  Favoral  in  gold,  do 
you  hear  ?  in  ten  rolls,  which  I  placed  there,  on  that 
very  table,  and  for  which  he  gave  me  a  receipt.  Here  it 
is,  his  receipt." 

He  held  out  a  paper,  but  Maxence  did  not  take  it. 
"  I  do  not  doubt  your  word,  sir,"  he  replied ;  "  but  my 
father's  business  is  not  ours." 

"  You  refuse  to  give  me  back  my  money  ? 
Neither  my  mother,  my  sister,  nor  myself,  possess 
anything." 

The  blood  rushed  to  the  man's  face,  and,  with  a  tongue 
swollen  by  passion,  he  exclaimed  :  "  And  you  thmk  you 
are  going  to  pay  me  in  that  way.  You  have  nothing  ! 
Poor  little  fellow  !  And  will  you  tell  me,  then,  what  has 
become  of  the  twenty  millions  your  father  has  stolen? 
For  he  has  stolen  twenty  millions.  I  know  it :  I  have 
been  told  so.    Where  are  they  ?  " 

"The  police,  sir,  have  placed  the  seals  over  all  my 
father's  papers." 

"  The  police  ? "  interrupted  the  baker,  "  the  seals  ? 
What  do  I  care  for  that  ?  It's  my  money  I  want :  do  you 
hear  ?  Justice  is  going  to  take  a  hand  in  it,  is  it  ? 
Arrest  your  father,  try  him  ?  What  good  will  that  do  me  ? 
He  will  be  condemned  to  two  or  three  years'  imprison- 
ment. Will  that  give  me  a  centime  1  He  will  serve  out 
his  time  quietly ;  and,  when  he  comes  out  of  prison,  he'll 
get  hold  of  the  pile  that  he's  hidden  away  somewhere  ; 
and,  while  I  starve,  he'll  spend  my  money  under  my  very 
nose.    No,  no !    That  won't  do  at  all ;  I  wish  to  be  paid 


132 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


at  once."  And  throwing  himself  upon  a  chair  he  leant 
bacK  and  stretched  out  his  legs,  and  declared  :  "  I  am 
not  going  out  of  here  until  I  am  paid„" 

It  was  not  wthout  the  greatest  efforts  that  Maxence 
managed  to  keep  his  temper.  "  Your  insults  are  useless, 
sir/'  he  began. 

The  man  jumped  up  from  his  seat.  "  Insults !  "  he 
cried  in  a  voice  that  could  have  been  heard  all  over  the 
house.  "  Do  you  call  it  an  insult  when  a  man  claims  his 
own  ?  If  you  think  you  can  make  me  hold  my  tongue, 
you  are  mistaken  in  your  man,  M.  Favoral,  junior.  I  am 
not  rich. myself :  my  father  did  not  steal  to  leave  me  an 
incorne.  It  was  not  in  gambling  at  the  Bourse  that  I 
made  those  ten  thousand  francs.  It  was  by  the  sweat  of 
my  body,  by  working  hard  night  and  day  for  years,  by  de- 
priving myself  of  a  glass  of  wine  when  I  was  thirsty.  And 
I  am  to  lose  them!  By  the  holy  name  of  heaven,  we'll 
see  about  that !  If  everybody  was  like  me,  there  would 
not  be  so  many  scoundrels  going  about,  their  pockets 
filled  with  other  people^s  mone_y,  and  from  the  seats  of 
their  carriages  laughing  at  the  poor  fools  they  had  ruined. 
Come,  my  ten  thousand  francs,  you  beggar,  or  I  pay  my- 
self on  your  back." 

Maxence,  enraged,  was  about  to  throw  himself  upon  the 
man,  and  a  disgusting  struggle  would  have  been  the  re- 
sult, when  Gilberte  stepped  between  them.  "  Your  threats 
are  as  cowardly  as  your  insults,  M.  Bertau,"  she  said  in  a 
quivering  voice.  "  You  have  known  us  long  enough  to  be 
aware  that  we  knew  nothing  of  our  father's  business,  and 
that  we  have  nothing  ourselves.  All  we  can  do  is  to  give 
up  to  our  creditors  our  very  last  crumb.  That  shall  be 
done.    And  now,  sir,  please  retire." 

There  was  so  much  dignity  in  her  sorrow,  and  so  im- 
posing was  her  attitude,  that  the  baker  stood  abashed. 

Ah  !  if  that's  the  way,"  he  stammered  awkwardly,  "  and 
since  you  meddle  with  it,  mademoiselle — "  and  he  hastily 
beat  a  retreat,  growling  at  the  same  time  threats  and  ex- 
cuses, and  slamming  the  doors  after  him  hard  enough  to 
break  the  panels. 

What  a  disgrace  !  "  murmured  Madame  Favoral. 

Crushed  by  this  last  scene,  she  was  choking ;  and  hei 
children  had  to  carry  her  to  the  open  window.  She  re- 
covered almost  at  once ;  but  then,  through  the  darkness 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


133 


dreary  and  cold,  she  had  Hke  a  vision  of  her  husband,  and, 
throwing  herself  back  in  her  chair,  she  muttered  :  "  O 
great  heavens  !  where  did  he  go  when  he  left  us  ?  Where 
is  he  now?  What  is  he  doing?  What  has  become  of 
him  ? 

Her  married  life  had  been  but  a  slow  torture  to  Madame 
Favoral.  It  was  in  vain  that  she  looked  back  through  the 
past  for  some  of  those  happy  days  which  leave  their  lu- 
minous trace  in  life,  and  towards  which  the  mind  turns  in 
the  hours  of  grief.  Vincent  Favoral  had  never  been  aught 
but  a  brutal  despot,  taking  advantage  of  his  victim's  resig- 
nation. And  yet,  had  he  died,  she  would  have  wept  bit- 
terly for  him  in  all  the  sincerity  of  her  good  and  simple 
heart.  Mere  habit !  Prisoners  have  been  known  to  shed 
tears  over  their  jailer's  coffin.  Then  too  he  was  her  hus- 
band, after  all,  the  father  of  her  children,  the  only  man 
who  existed  for  her.  For  twenty-six  years  they  had  never 
been  separated ;  they  had  sat  at  the  same  table  ;  they  had 
slept  side  by  side.  Yes,  she  -would  have  wept  over  him. 
But  how  much  less  poignant  would  her  grief  have  been 
than  at  this  moment,  when  it  was  complicated  by  all  the 
torments  of  uncertainty,  and  by  the  most  frightful  appre- 
hensions !  Fearing  lest  she  might  take  cold,  her  children 
removed  her  to  the  sofa,  and  there,  all  shivering,  she  said 
to  them  :  "  Isn't  it  horrible  not  to  know  anything  of  your 
father,  or  his  whereabouts  ?  to  think  that  at  this  very  mo- 
ment, perhaps,  pursued  by  the  police,  he  is  wandering  in 
despair  through  the  streets,  without  daring  to  ask  any- 
where for  shelter !  " 

Her  children  had  no  time  to  answer  and  comfort  her ; 
for  at  this  moment  the  door-bell  rang  again. 

"  Who  can  it  be  now  ?  "  asked  Madame  Favoral  with  a 
start. 

This  time  there  was  no  discussion  on  the  landing.  Foot- 
steps resounded  on  the  floor  of  the  dining-room ;  the  door 
opened,  and  M.  Desclavettes,  the  old  bronze-merchant, 
walked,  or  rather  glided  into  the  drawing-room.  Hope, 
fear,  anger,  all  the  sentiments  which  agitated  his  mind, 
could  be  read  on  his  pale  and  pitiful  face.  With  a  misera- 
ble smile,  he  said  :     It  is  I." 

Maxence  stepped  forward,  Have  you  any  news  of 
my  father,  sir  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,"  replied  the  old  merchant,  "  I  confess  I  have  not; 


OTHER  PEOPLES  MONEY, 


and  I  just  came  to  see  if  you  had  any  yourselves.  Oh,  \ 
know  very  well  that  this  is  not  exactly  the  right  hour  to 
call  at  a  house ;  but  I  thought,  that,  after  what  took  pl7C2 
this  evening,  you  would  not  be  in  bed  yet.  I  cannot  ^  ,p 
myself.  You  understand,  a  friendship  of  twenty  v, v^.  s' 
standing!  So  I  took  Madame  Desclavettes  home,  and 
here  I  am." 

"  We  feel  very  thankful  for  your  sympathy,"  murmured 
Madame  Favoral. 

"  No  doubt.    The  fact  is,  you  see,  I  take  a  good  der 
of  interest  in  the  misfortune  that  strikes  you,  a  greater  ii 
terest  than  any  one  else.    For,  after  all,  I  too  am  z  victin^. 
I  had  intrusted  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  francs 
to  our  dear  Vincent." 

"  Alas,  sir  ! "  said  Mademoiselle  Gilberte. 

But  the  worthy  man  did  not  allow  her  to  proceed.  "  I 
do  not  reproach  him  with  anything/'  he  went  on.  "  Why, 
dear  me!  haven't  I  been  in  business  myself,  and  don't  I 
know  what  it  is  ?  First  we  borrow  a  thousand  francs  or 
so  from  the  cash  box,  then  ten  thousand,  then  a  hundred 
thousand.  Oh  !  without  any  bad  intention,  to  be  sure,  and 
with  the  firm  resolution  to  return  them.  But  we  are  not 
always  able  to  do  what  we  wish  to  do.  Circumstances 
sometimes  work  against  us ;  if  we  operate  on  the  Bourse 
to  make  up  the  deficit,  we  lose.  Then  we  must  borrow 
again,  draw  from  Peter  to  pay  Paul.  Then  we  are  afraid 
of  being  found  out ;  we  are  compelled,  reluctantly  of  course, 
to  alter  the  books.  At  last  a  day  comes  when  we  find 
that  millions  are  wanting,  and  the  bomb-shell  bursts. 
Does  it  follow  from  this  that  a  man  is  dishonest  ?  Not 
the  least  in  the  world  :  he  is  simply  unlucky."  He  stopped, 
as  if  awaiting  an  answer ;  but,  as  none  came,  he  resumed, 
"  I  repeat,  I  do  not  reproach  Favoral  with  anything.  But 
really,  now,  between  us,  to  lose  these  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  francs  would  simply  be  a  serious  disaster  for  me. 
I  know  very  well  that  both  Chapelain  and  Desormeaux  had 
also  deposited  funds  with  Vincent.  But  they  are  rich : 
one  of  them  owns  three  houses  in  Paris,  and  the  other  has 
a  good  situation.  Whereas  I,  if  I  lose  these  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  francs,  I  shall  have  nothing  left  but  my 
eyes  to  weep  with.  My  wife  is  dying  about  it.  I  assure 
you  our  position  is  a  terrible  one." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


135 


Maxence  said  to  M.  Desclavettes,  as  he  had  said  to  the 
baker  a  few  moments  before, — "  We  have  nothing,  sir.'' 

"  I  know  it,"  exclaimed  the  old  man.  I  know  it  as 
well  as  you  do  yourself.  And  therefore  I  have  only  come 
to  beg  a  little  favour  of  you,  which  will  cost  you  nothing. 
When  you  see  Favoral  again,  remember  me  to  him,  ex- 
liin  my  position  to  him,  and  try  to  get  him  to  give  me 
ick  my  money.  He  is  a  difficult  one  to  deal  with,  that's 
a  fact;  but,  however,  if  you  go  the  right  way  to  work, 
above  all,  if  our  dear  Gilberte  will  take  the  matter  in 
hand— 

"  Sir ! " 

"  Oh !  I  swear  I  shan^t  say  a  word  about  it,  either  to  l)e- 
sormeaux  or  Chapelain,  nor  to  anyone  else  in  the  world. 
Although  re-imbursed,  I'll  make  as  much  noise  as  the  oth- 
ers, more  noise,  even.  Come  now,  my  dear  friends,  what 
do  you  say  ? "    He  was  almost  crying. 

"  And  where  the  deuce,  sir,"  exclaimed  Maxence,  "  do 
you  expect  my  father  to  find  a  hundred  and  twenty  thou- 
sand francs  ?  Didn't  you  see  him  go  without  even  taking 
the  money  that  M.  de  Thaller  brought  ?  " 

A  smile  re-appeared  u}  on  M.  Desclavettes'  pale  lips. 
"  Tell  that  to  the  public,  my  dear  Maxence  ; "  he  said, 
"  and  some  people  may  believe  it.  But  don't  say  it  to  your 
old  friend,  who  knows  too  much  about  business  to  be  taken 
in  by  it.  When  a  man  bolts,  after  borrowing  twelve 
millions  from  his  employers,  he  would  be  a  great  fool  if  he 
had  not  put  two  or  three  away  in  safety.  Now,  Favoral  is 
no  fool." 

Thus  the  retired  bronze  merchant  had  formed  the  same 
suspicion  as  the  baker.  Tears  of  shame  and  anger  started 
from  Gilberte's  eyes.  "  What  you  are  saying  is  abomina- 
ble, sir,"  she  exclaimed. 

He  seemed  much  surprised  at  her  vehemence.  "  Why 
so  ?  "  he  asked.  "  In  Vincent's  place  I  should  most  deci- 
dedly not  have  hesitated  to  do  what  he  has  certainly  done. 
And  when  I  say  so  you  may  believe  me,  for  I  am  an  hon- 
est man.  I  was  in  business  for  twenty  years  ;  and  I  dare 
anyone  to  prove  that  a  bill  accepted  by  Desclavettes  was 
ever  protested.  And  so,  my  dear  friends,  I  beseech  you, 
consent  to  serve  your  old  friend,  save  him  from  ruin,  and, 
when  you  see  Vincent — " 

The  old  man's  meek  tone  of  voice  exasperated  even  Mad 


136 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


ame  Favoral.  "  We  shall  never  see  my  husband  again,'' 
she  exclaimed. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and,  in  a  tone  of  paternal  re- 
proach— You  just  give  up  such  an  unpleasant  idea,'*  he 
said.  "  You  will  see  dear  Vincent  again,  for  he  is  much 
too  sharp  to  allow  himself  to  be  caught.  Of  course,  he'll 
stay  away  as  long  as  it  may  be  necessary  ;  but,  as  soon  as 
he  can  return  without  danger,  he  will  do  so.  Why,  the 
Boulevards  are  crowded  with  people  who  have  all  had 
their  little  difficulty,  and  who  have  spent  five  or  ten  years 
abroad  for  the  benefit  of  their  health.  Are  they  any  the 
worse  for  that  ?  Not  in  the  least :  and  no  one  hesitates 
to  shake  hands  with  them.  Besides,  those  things  are  so 
soon  forgotten ! 

He  continued  talking  as  if  he  never  intended  to  stop  ; 
and  it  was  not  without  great  trouble  that  Maxence  and 
Gilberte  succeeded  in  getting  rid  of  him,  very  much  dissat- 
isfied to  see  his  request  so  ill  received.  It  was  past  twelve 
o"  :lock.  Maxence  was  anxious  to  return  to  his  own  home  ; 
but,  at  the  pressing  instances  of  his  mother,  he  consented 
to  remain,  and  threw  himself,  without  undressing,  on  the 
bed  in  his  old  room.  "  What  will  to-morrow  bring  forth  ?  " 
he  asked  himself. 

XXHI. 

After  a  few  hours  of  that  leaden  sleep  which  follows 
great  catastrophes,  Madame  Favoral  and  her  children  were 
awakened  early  on  the  morning  of  the  following  day,  which 
was  Sunday,  by  the  furious  clamours  of  an  exasperated 
crowd.  Loud  blows  upoa  the  outer  door  were  mingled 
with  the  stamping  of  f^et,  the  oaths  of  men,  and  the 
screams  of  women.  And,  a^ove  this  confused  and  con- 
tinuous tumult,  such  vociferations  as  these  could  be  dis- 
tinguished :  "  I  tell  you  they  are  at  home  !  "  "  Robbers, 
swindlers,  thieves  !  "      We  want  to  go  in,  we  will  go  in  !  " 

Let  the  wife  come  then ;  w^e  intend  to  see  her,  we  must 
speak  to  her  1 " 

Occasionally  there  was  a  lull,  during  which  the  plain- 
tive voice  of  the  servant  girl  could  be  heard ;  but  almost 
immediately  the  cries  and  the  threats  would  recommence, 
louder  than  ever.  Maxence,  being  ready  first,  hurried  to 
the  drawing-room,  where  his  mother  and  sister  soon  joined 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


him,  with  pale  faces  and  eyes  swollen  by  sleep  and  by 
tears.  Madame  Favoral  was  trembling  so  much  that 
she  was  unable  to  fasten  her  dress.  Do  you  hear  ?  "  she 
asked  in  a  choking  voice. 

From  the  drawing-room,  which  was  divided  from  the 
dining-room  by  folding-doors,  they  did  not  miss  a  single 
insult.  "Well,"  said  Gilberte  coldly,  "what  else  could  we 
expect  ?  If  Bertau  came  alone  last  night,  it  was  because 
he  alone  had  been  informed.  The  others  are  come  now. 
And,"  addressing  her  brother,  "  You  must  see  them,"  she 
added,  "  speak  to  them." 

But  Maxence  did  not  stir.  The  idea  of  facing  the  in- 
sults and  the  curses  of  these  enraged  creditors  was  too  re- 
pugnant to  him. 

"  Would  you  rather  let  them  break  in  the  door  ?  "  asked 
Gilberte.    "  It  won't  take  long." 

He  hesitated  no  longer.  Gadiering  all  his  courage,  he 
hurried  into  the  dining-room.  The  disorder  was  beyond 
limits.  The  table  had  been  pushed  into  a  corner,  the 
chairs  were  upset.  There  were  some  thirty  of  them,  men 
and  women,  concierges,  tradesmen,  and  small  household- 
ers of  the  neighbourhood,  with  flushed  faces  and  staring 
eyes  and  gesticulating  like  mad-men,  and  shaking  their 
clenched  fists  at  the  ceiling. 

"  Gentlemen,"  commenced  Maxence. 

But  his  voice  was  drowned  by  the  most  frightful  shouts. 
He  had  hardly  entered  the  room  when  he  was  so  closely 
surrounded  that  he  had  been  unable  to  close  the  door  be- 
hind him,  and,  before  being  able  to  say  a  word,  he  found 
himself  pushed  into  the  embrasure  of  a  window. 

"  My  father,  gentlemen,"  he  resumed. 

Again  he  was  interrupted.  There  were  three  or  four  in 
front  of  him,  who  were  endeavouring  to  establish  their  own 
claims  clearly.  They  were  all  speaking  at  once,  each  one 
raising  his  own  voice  so  as  to  drown  those  of  the  others. 
And  yet,  amidst  their  confused  explanations,  one  could 
manage  to  make  out  how  the  cashier  had  duped  them.  In 
the  early  days,  it  was  only  with  great  reluctance  that  he 
consented  to  take  charge  of  the  funds  which  were  offered 
Ko  him  ;  and  then  he  never  accepted  anything  less  than  ten 
thousand  francs,  being  always  careful  to  say,  that  not  be- 
ing a  sorcerer,  he  would  not  answer  for  anything,  and 
might  make  a  mistake,  like  any  one  else.    Since  the  Com' 


138 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


mune,  however,  and  with  a  duplicity  of  which  he  could 

never  have  been  suspected,  he  had  used  all  his  ingenuity  to 
entice  deposits.  Under  some  pretext  or  other  he  wculd 
call  among  the  neighbours  and  the  tradespeople,  and,  after 
lamenting  with  them  about  the  hard  times  and  the  diffi- 
culty of  making  money,  he  always  ended  by  holding  up  to 
them  the  dazzling  profits  which  are  yielded  by  certain  in- 
vestments unknown  to  the  pubHc.  If  these  very  proceed* 
ings  had  not  betrayed  him,  it  is  because  he  recommended 
to  each  person  the  most  inviolable  secrecy,  saying,  that  at 
the  slighest  indiscretion,  he  would  be  assailed  with  requests 
to  invest  money,  and  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him 
to  do  for  all  what  he  did  for  one.  He  took  moreover 
everything  that  was  offered  him,  even  the  most  insignifi- 
cant amounts,  affirming,  with  the  most  imperturbable  assur- 
ance, that  he  knew  how  to  double  or  treble  them  in  a  very 
short  time  without  the  slightest  risk.  The  catastrophe  hav- 
ing come,  the  smaller  creditors  showed  themselves  as  usual, 
the  most  exasperated  and  the  most  intractable.  The 
less  money  one  has,  the  more  anxious  one  is  to  keep  it. 
There  was  an  old  newspaper-vendor  there,  whahad  placed 
in  M.  FavoraFs  hands  all  she  possessed  in  the  world,  the 
savings  of  her  entire  life,  five  hundred  francs.  Clinging 
desperately  to  Maxence,  she  beseeched  him  to  restore  them 
to  her,  swearing  that  if  he  did  not  there  would  be  nothing 
left  for  her  to  do  except  to  throw  herself  into  the  riven 
Her  groans  and  her  lamentations  exasperated  the  other 
creditors.  That  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank 
should  have  embezzled  millions,  they  could  well  under- 
stand, they  said.  But  that  he  could  have  robbed  this  poor 
woman  of  her  five  hundred  francs,  was  more  mean^  more 
cowardly,  and  more  vile  than  anything  that  could  be  imag- 
ined; and  the  law  had  no  punishment  severe  enough  for 
such  a  crime. 

"  Give  her  back  her  five  hundred  francs  !  "  they  cried. 
For  there  was  not  one  of  them  but  would  have  wagered 
his  head  that  M.  Favoral  had  lots  of  money  hidden  away ; 
and  some  went  even  so  far  as  to  state  that  it  was  in  the 
house,  and  if  they  looked  about  for  it,  they  would  find  It. 
Maxence,  who  was  greeted  with  jeers  every  time  he  opened 
his  month  was  at  a  loss  what  to  do,  when,  in  the  midst  of 
this  hostile  crowd,  he  perceived  M.  Chapelain's  friendly 
face.    Driven  from  his  bed  at  daylight  by  bitter  regrets  at 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


139 


the  heavy  loss  he  had  sustained,  the  ex-lawyer  had  arrived 
in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  at  the  very  moment  when  the  cred- 
itors invaded  M.  Favoral's  apartments.  Standing  behind 
the  crowd,  he  had  seen  and  heard  everything  without 
uttering  a  word  ;  and,  if  he  interfered  now,  it  was  because 
he  thought  things  were  about  to  take  an  ugly  turn. 

He  was  well  known  ;  and,  as  soon  as  he  showed  him- 
self, they  shouted  on  all  sides  :  "  He  is  one  of  the  wretch's 
friends  !  " 

But  he  was  not  the  man  to  be  so  easily  frightened.  He 
had  seen  many  such  cases  during  the  twenty  years  that  he 
had  practised  law,  and  had  been  mixed  up  in  all  the  sin- 
ister comedies  and  grotesque  dramas  of  money.  He  knew 
how  to  speak  to  infuriated  creditors,  how  to  handle  them, 
and  what  strings  can  be  made  to  vibrate  within  them.  In 
the  most  quiet  tone,  he  replied  :  Certainly,  I  was  Favo- 
raPs  intimate  friend  ;  and  the  proof  is,  that  he  has  treated 
me  more  amicably  than  the  rest.  I  have  been  let  in  for 
a  hundred  and  sixty  thousand  francs." 

By  this  statement  alone  he  conquered  the  sympathies  of 
the  crowd.  He  was  a  brother  in  misfortune  ;  they  re- 
spected him.  He  was,  as  they  all  knew,  a  skilful  lawyer, 
they  therefore  stopped  their  clamours  to  listen  to  him. 
He  at  once  asked  these  invaders  in  a  peremptory  tone 
what  they  were  doing  there,  and  what  they  wanted.  Did 
they  not  know  to  what  they  exposed  themselves  in  violat- 
ing a  domicile  !  What  would  have  happened,  if,  instead 
of  stopping  to  explain  to  them,  Maxence  had  sent  for  the 
commissary  of  police  ?  Was  it  to  Madame  Favoral  and 
her  children  that  they  had  intrusted  their  funds  ?  No  ! 
What  then  did  they  want  with  them Was  there  by 
chance  among  them  some  of  those  shrewd  fellows  who 
always  try  to  get  themselves  paid  in  full,  to  the  detriment 
of  the  others  ?  This  last  insinuation  proved  sufficient  to 
break  up  the  perfect  accord  that  had  hitherto  existed 
among  the  creditors.  Distrust  arose  ;  suspicious  glances 
were  exchanged  ;  and,  as  the  old  newspaper  woman,  whom 
they  had  pitied  so  much  but  a  few  moments  before,  was 
keeping  up  her  groans,  "  Why  should  you  be  paid  before 
us  ?  "  two  women  asked  her  roughly.  "  Our  rights  are  just 
as  good  as  yours  ! 

"  And  moreover,"  resumed  the  ex-lawyer,  prompt  to 
avail  himself  of  the  dispositions  of  the  crowd,  "  in  whom 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


did  we  place  our  confidence  ?  Was  it  in  Favoral  the  pri- 
vate individual  ?  To  a  certain  extent,  yes  ;  but  it  was 
much  more  in  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank. 
Therefore  that  establishment  owes  us,  at  least,  some  ex- 
planations. And  this  is  not  all.  Are  we  really  so  badly 
burned,  that  we  should  scream  so  loud  ?  What  do  we 
know  about  it  ?  That  Favoral  is  charged  with  embezzle- 
ment,  that  the  police  came  to  arrest  him,  and  that  he  ran 
away.  Does  it  follow  that  our  money  is  lost  ?  I  hope 
not.  And  so  what  should  we  do  ?  Act  prudently,  and 
wait  patiently  for  justice  to  do  its  work." 

By  this  time,  the  creditors  were  slipping  out  one  by  one ; 
and  soon  the  servant  closed  the  door  on  the  last  of  them. 
Then  Madame  Favoral,  Maxence,  and  Gilberte  surrounded 
M.  Chapelain,  and,  pressing  his  hands,  said  :  "  How 
thankful  we  feel,  sir,  for  the  service  you  have  just  rendered 
us!" 

But  the  ex-lawyer  seemed  in  no  wise  proud  of  his  vic- 
tory. "  Do  not  thank  me,"  he  said.  "  I  have  only  done 
my  duty,  what  any  honest  man  would  have  done  in  my 
place." 

And  yet  under  the  appearance  of  impassible  indifference, 
acquired  by  the  long  practice  of  a  profession  which  leaves 
no  illusions,  he  evidently  felt  a  real  emotion.  "  It  is  you 
whom  I  pity,"  he  added,  "  and  with  all  my  soul, — ^you, 
madame,  you,  my  dear  Gilberte,  and  you,  too,  Maxence. 
Never  before  have  I  so  well  understood  to  what  degree  is 
guilty  the  head  of  a  family  who  leaves  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren exposed  to  the  consequences  of  his  misdoings.'* 

He  ceased  speaking.  The  servant  was  doing  her  best 
to  put  the  dining-room  in  some  sort  of  order,  wheeling  the 
table  back  into  its  place,  and  lifting  up  the  chairs  which 
had  been  overturned. 

"  What  a  pillage  !  "  she  grumbled.  "  Neighbours  too, 
people  from  whom  we  bought  our  things  I  But  they  were 
worse  than  savages  ;  it  was  impossible  to  do  anything  with 
them ! " 

"  Don't  worry  yourself,  my  good  girl,"  said  M.  Chape- 
lain :  "  they  wont  come  back  any  more  !  " 

Madame  Favoral  looked  as  though  she  were  about  to 
drop  down  on  her  knees  before  him,  How  very  kind 
you  are  !  "  she  murmured  :  "  you  are  not  too  angry  wit!? 
poor  Vince^ut  I " 


OTHER  FEOPLKS  MONEY, 


141 


With  the  look  of  a  man  who  has  made  up  his  mind  to 
make  the  best  of  a  disaster  that  he  cannot  help,  M.  Chape- 
lain  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  am  more  angry  with  my- 
self," he  exclaimed  in  a  surly  tone.  "  An  old  hawk  like 
me  should  not  have  allowed  himself  to  be  caught  in  a 
pigeon  trap  !  I  am  inexcusable.  But  one  wants  to  get 
rich.  It's  slow  work  earning  money  by  working,  and  it's 
so  much  easier  to  get  the  money  already  earned  out  of  a 
neighbour's  pocket.  I  was  unable  to  resist  the  temptation 
myself.  It  serves  me  right ;  and  I  should  say  it  was  a 
good  lesson,  if  it  did  not  cost  so  dear  !  " 

So  much  philosophy  could  hardly  have  been  expected  of 
him. 

"  All  my  father's  friends  are  not  as  indulgent  as 
you  are,  sir,"  said  Maxence.  "  M.  Desclavettes,  for  in- 
stance." 

"  Have  you  seen  him  since  ? " 

"Yes,  last  night,  about  twelve  o'clock.  He  came  to 
ask  us  to  get  father  to  pay  him  back,  if  we  should  ever  see 
him  again." 

"  That  is  not  a  bad  idea  1  '* 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  started.  "What!"  she  ex- 
claimed, "you,  too,  sir,  can  imagine  that  my  father  has 
run  away  with  millions  ?  " 

The  ex-lawyer  shook  his  head.  "  I  imagine  nothing," 
he  answered.  Favoral  has  taken  me  in  so  completely — 
me,  who  had  the  pretension  of  being  a  judge  of  men — that 
nothing  from  him,  either  for  good  or  for  evil,  could  sur- 
prise me  hereafter." 

Madame  Favoral  was  about  to  offer  some  objection ; 
but  he  stopped  her  with  a  gesture. 

"And  yet,"  he  went  on,  "  I'd  bet  that  he  has  gone  off 
with  empty  pockets.  His  recent  behaviour  reveals  a 
frightful  penury.  Had  he  had  a  few  thousand  francs  at 
his  command,  would  he  have  extorted  five  hundred  francs 
from  a  poor  old  woman,  a  wretched  newspaper-vendor? 
What  did  he  want  with  money  }  Try  his  luck  once  more, 
no  doubt." 

He  had  seated  himself,  and  his  elbow  resting  upon  the 
arm  of  the  chair,  his  face  buried  in  his  hand,  he  remained 
thinking ;  and  the  contraction  of  his  features  indicated  the 
great  tension  of  his  mind.  Suddenly  he  jumped  up, 
"But  Where's  the  use,"  he  exclaimed,  "of  wandering  ip 


£42 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


idle  conjectures  ?  What  do  we  know  about  Favoral ! 
Nothing.  One  entire  side  of  his  existence  escapes  us — 
that  fantastic  side,  of  which  the  insane  prodigaUties  and 
inconceivable  disorders  have  been  revealed  to  us  by  the 
bills  found  in  his  desk.  He  is  certainly  guilty ;  but  is 
he  as  guilty  as  we  think  ?  and,  above  all,  is  he  alone  guilty  ? 
Was  it  solely  for  himself  that  he  embezzled  all  this  money? 
Are  the  missing  millions  really  lost  ?  and  would  it  not  be 
possible  to  find  the  greater  part  of  them  in  the  pocket  of 
some  accomplice  ?  Skilful  men  do  not  expose  themselves. 
They  have  at  their  command  poor  wretches,  sacrificed  in 
advance,  and  who,  in  exchange  for  a  few  crumbs  that  are 
thrown  to  them,  risk  the  criminal  court,  are  condemned, 
and  sent  to  prison." 

"  That's  just  what  I  was  telling  my  mother  and  sister, 
sir,"  interrupted  Maxence. 

And  that's  what  I  am  telling  myself,"  continued  the 
ex-lawyer.  "  I  have  been  thinking  over  and  over  again  of 
last  evening's  events  ;  and  strange  doubts  have  entered  my 
mind.  For  a  man  who  has  been  robbed  of  several 
millions,  M.  de  Thaller  seemed  remarkably  quiet  and  self- 
possessed.  Favoral  appeared  to  me  singularly  calm  for  a 
man  charged  with  embezzlement  and  forgery.  M.  de 
Thaller,  as  manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank,  is  really 
responsible  for  the  stolen  funds,  and,  as  such,  should 
have  been  anxious  to  secure  the  guilty  party,  and  to  pro- 
duce him.  Instead  of  that,  he  wished  him  to  go,  and  act- 
ually brought  him  the  money  to  enable  him  to  leave.  Was  he 
in  hopes  of  hushing  up  the  affair  ?  Evidently  not,  since 
the  police  had  been  notified.  On  the  other  hand,  Favoral 
seemed  much  more  angry  than  surprised  by  the  occurrence. 
It  was  only  on  the  appearance  of  the  commissary  of  police 
that  he  seems  to  have  lost  his  head ;  and  then  some 
very  strange  words  escaped  him  which  I  cannot  under- 
stand." 

He  was  walking  about  the  drawing-room  at  random,  ap- 
parently rather  answering  the  objections  of  his  own  mind 
than  addressing  himself  to  Madame  Favoral  or  her  chil- 
dren, who  were  listening,  nevertheless,  with  all  the  atten- 
tion of  which  they  were  capable. 

^'  It  is  incredible  !  "  he  continued.  "  An  old  stager  like 
me  to  be  taken  in  thus !  Evidently  there  is,  under  all  this, 
one  of  those  diabolical  combinations  which  time  even  fails 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 


143 


to  unravel.  We  ought  to  search,  to  enquire — "  And  then, 
suddenly  stopping  in  front  of  Maxence,  he  asked  :  "  How 
much  money  did  M.  de  Thaller  bring  to  your  father  last 
night  ? " 

"  Fifteen  thousand  francs.'* 

*^  Where  are  they  ?  " 

"  Put  away  in  my  mother's  room.*' 
When  do  you  intend  to  take  them  back  to  M.  de 
Thaller?" 

"  To-morrow." 

"  Why  not  to-day  ?  " 

"  It  is  Sunday.    His  office  will  be  closed." 

"  After  what  has  happened,  M.  de  Thaller  is  sure 
to  be  at  his  office.  Besides,  haven't  you  his  private 
address  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have." 

The  old  fellow's  little  eyes  were  shining  with  unusual 
brilliancy.  He  certainly  felt  deeply  the  loss  of  his  money  ; 
but  the  idea  that  he  had  been  swindled  for  the  benefit  of 
some  clever  rascal,  was  absolutely  insupportable  to  him, 
"  If  we  were  wise,"  he  resumed,  "  we'd  do  this.  Madame 
Favoral  would  take  these  fifteen  thousand  francs,  I  would 
offer  her  my  arm,  and  we  would  go  together,  she  and  I,  to 
see  M.  de  Thaller." 

It  was  an  unexpected  good-fortune  for  Madame  Favoral 
that  M.  Chapelain  should  be  willing  to  assist  her.  So, 
without  hesitating,  she  said  :  The  time  to  dress,  sir,  and 
I  am  ready." 

She  hastened  to  leave  the  drawing-room,  but,  as  she 
reached  her  own  room,  her  son  joined  her.  "  I  am  obliged 
to  go  out,  dear  mother,"  he  said  ;  and  I  shall  probably 
not  be  home  to  lunch." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  look  of  painful  surprise. 
"  What,"  she  exclaimed,  "  at  such  a  moment ! " 
I  am  expected  at  my  lodging." 

"  By  whom  ?  "  He  did  not  answer,  and  then,  all  the 
reproaches  his  father  had  addressed  to  him  came  to  her 
mind.    "  A  woman  ?  "  she  murmured. 

"Well,  yes." 

"  And  it  is  for  that  woman's  sake  that  you  are  going  to 
leave  your  sister  alone  at  home  ?  " 

"  I  must,  mother,  I  assure  you ;  and,  if  you  oiilj 
knew^ — " 


144 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  I  do  not  wish  to  know  anything." 

But  his  mind  was  made  up.  He  went  olf ;  and  a  few 
moments  later  Madame  Favoral  and  M.  Chapel ain  entered 
a  cab  which  had  been  sent  for,  and  drove  to  M.  de 
Thaller's. 

XXIV. 

Left  alone,  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  had  but  one  thought 
— to  inform  M.  de  Tregars  of  what  had  taken  place,  and 
to  hear  from  him.  Anything  seemed  preferable  to  the 
horrible  anxiety  which  oppressed  her.  She  had  just  com- 
menced a  letter  which  she  intended  to  send  under  cover 
to  the  Count  de  Villegre,  when  a  violent  ring  of  the  bell 
made  her  start ;  and  almost  immediately  the  servant  en- 
tered the  room,  saying :  There  is  a  gentleman  who 
wishes  to  see  you,  mademoiselle,  a  friend  of  master's,  M. 
Costeclar." 

Gilberte  started  to  her  feet,  trembling  with  excitement. 
*'This  is  too  much. impudence !  "  she  exclaimed. 

She  was  hesitating  whether  to  refuse  him  the  door,  or  to 
see  him,  and  dismiss  him  ignominiously  herself,  when  she 
had  a  sudden  inspiration.  "  What  does  he  want ! ''  she 
thought.  Why  not  see  him,  and  try  and  find  out  what  he 
knows  ?    For  he  certainly  must  know  the  truth." 

But  there  was  no  longer  time  to  deliberate.  Above  the 
servant's  shoulder  M.  Costeclar's  pale  and  impudent  face 
showed  itself.  The  girl  having  stepped  aside,  he  ap- 
peared, hat  in  hand.  Although  it  was  long  before  nine 
o'clock,  he  was  got  up  in  the  most  irreproachable  style. 
He  had  already  passed  through  the  hairdresser's  hands  : 
and  his  hair  was  brought  forward  over  his  low  forehead 
with  the  most  elaborate  care.  He  wore  a  pair  of  those 
ridiculous  trousers  which  grow  wide  from  the  knees  down, 
and  which  v/ere  invented  by  Prussian  tailors  to  hide  their 
customers'  ugly  feet.  Under  his  light  over-coat,  could  be 
seen  a  short  velvet-faced  coat,  with  a  rose  in  the  button- 
hole. 

However,  he  remained  motionless  at  the  threshold  of 
the  door,  attempting  to  smile,  and  muttering  one  of  those 
sentences  which  are  never  intended  to  be  finished.  "  I 
beg  you  to  believe,  mademoiselle — your  mother's  absence 
— ^my  most  respectful  admiiation — " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MCNEY. 


In  fact,  he  was  taken  aback  by  the  disorder  of  the  girPs 
toilette — disorder  which  she  had  had  no  time  to  repair 
since  the  clamours  of  the  creditors  had  roused  her  from 
her  bed.  She  had  on  a  long  brown  cashmere  dressing- 
gown,  fitting  close  round  the  hips,  and  setting  off  the  ele- 
gance of  her  figure,  the  maidenly  perfections  of  her  waist, 
and  the  exquisite  contour  of  her  neck.  Gathered  up  in 
haste,  her  thick  light  hair  had  escaped  from  the  pins,  and 
spread  over  her  shoulders  in  luminous  cascades.  Never 
had  she  appeared  to  M.  Costeclar  as  lovely  as  at  this 
moment,  when  her  whole  frame  was  vibrating  with  sup- 
pressed indignation,  her  cheeks  flushed,  her  eyes  flashing. 

"  Please  to  enter,  sir,"  she  uttered. 

He  stepped  forward,  no  longer  bowing  humbly  as  for- 
merly, but  holding  himself  erect,  with  his  chest  thrown  out, 
and  ill-concealing  a  look  of  gratified  vanity. 

"  I  did  not  expect  the  honour  of  your  visit,  sir,"  said  the 
yoking  girl. 

He  rapidly  passed  his  hat  and  his  cane  from  his  right 
hand  into  his  left,  and  then,  placing  his  right  hand  upon 
his  heart,  and  raising  his  eyes  to  the  ceiling,  he  exclained, 
with  all  the  depth  of  expression  of  which  he  was  capable  : 
"  It  is  in  times  of  adversity  that  we  know  our  real  friends, 
mademoiselle.  Those  upon  whom  we  think  we  can  rely 
the  most,  often,  at  the  first  reverse,  take  flight  forever  !  " 

She  trembled  from  head  to  foot.  Was  this  an  allusion 
to  Marius  1 

The  other,  changing  his  tone,  resumed  :  "  It  was  only 
last  night  that  I  heard  of  poor  Favoral's  discomfiture  at 
the  little  Bourse  on  the  Boulevards  where  I  had  gone  for 
news.  It  was  the  general  topic  of  conversation.  Twelve 
millions !  That's  a  big  sum.  The  Mutual  Credit  Bank 
may  not  be  able  to  keep  afloat.  From  580,  at  which  its 
shares  were  quoted  before  the  news,  they  dropped  at  eight 
o'clock  to  below  300.  At  nine  o'clock,  there  were  no 
takers  at  180.  And  yet,  if  there  is  nothing  beyond  what 
they  say,  at  180  I  am  for  it." 

Was  he  forgetting  himself,  or  pretending  to  ? 

"  But  excuse  me,  mademoiselle,"  he  added  :  "  that's  not 
what  I  came  to  say." 

"  Ah !  " 

"  I  came  to  ask  you  for  news  of  poor  Favoral/' 
"  We  have  none,  sir." 
10 


146 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


"  Then  it  is  true  :  he  succeeded  in  getting  away  by  the 
window  ? 
Yes." 

And  he  did  not  tell  you  where  he  meant  to  hide  ?  " 
^^No." 

Observing  M.  Costeclar  with  all  her  power  of  penetra- 
tion, Gilberte  fancied  she  discovered  in  him  something  like 
surprise  mingled  with  joy. 

"  And  Favoral  must  have  left  without  a  sou  !  " 

"  They  accuse  him  of  having  taken  away  millions,  sir  ; 
but  I  w^ould  swear  that  it  is  not  so." 

M.  Costeclar  approved  with  a  nod.  "  I  am  of  the  same 
opinion,"  he  declared,  unless — but  no,  he  was  not  the 
man  to  try  such  a  game.  And  yet — but  again  no,  he  was 
too  closely  watched.  Besides,  there  were  other  things  that 
exhausted  all  his  resources." 

Gilberte,  hoping  that  she  was  going  to  learn  something, 
made  an  effort  to  preserve  her  indifference.  What  do 
you  mean  ?  "  she  inquired. 

He  looked  at  her,  smiled,  and,  in  a  light  tone,  answered  : 
*'0h,  nothing,  only  some  conjectures  of  my  own."  And 
throwing  himself  into  an  armchair,  his  head  leaning  back, 
he  continued  :  "  But  that  is  not  the  object  of  my  visit 
either.  Favoral  is  done  for,  don't  let  us  say  anything 
more  about  him.  Whether  he  has  got  the  money  or  not, 
I  can  tell  you  you'll  never  see  him  again  :  he  is  as  good  as 
dead.  Let  us,  therefore,  talk  of  the  living,  of  yourself. 
What's  going  to  become  of  you  ?  *' 

I  do  not  understand  your  question,  sir." 
It  is  perfectly  limpid,  nevertheless.    I  am  asking  my- 
self how  you  are  going  to  live,  your  mother  and  your- 
self?" 

"  Providence  will  not  abandon  us,  sir." 

M.  Costeclar  had  crossed  his  legs,  and  with  the  end  of 
his  cane  he  was  negligently  tapping  his  immaculately  shin- 
ing boot.  "  Providence  !  "  he  giggled,  that's  very  good 
on  the  stage,  in  a  play,  with  low  music  in  the  orchestra. 
I  can  see  it  from  here.  In  real  life,  unfortunately,  the  life 
which  we  both  live,  you  and  I,  it  is  not  with  words,  were  they 
a  yard  long,  that  the  baker,  the  grocer,  and  those  rascally 
landlords  can  be  paid,  or  that  dresses  and  boots  can  be 
bought." 

She  made  no  answer. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


147 


"Now,"  he  continued,  "here  you  are  without  a  penny. 
Is  it  Maxence  who  will  supply  you  with  money  ?  Poor 
fellow  !  Where  would  he  get  it  ?  He  has  not  even  enough 
to  supply  the  wants  of  his  mistress.  Therefore,  what  are 
you  going  to  do  ? 

"  I  shall  work,  sir." 

He  got  up,  bowed  low,  and,  resuming  his  seat,  said  : 
"  My  sincere  compliments.  There  is  but  one  obstacle  to 
that  fine  resolution ;  it  is  next  to  impossible  for  a  woman 
to  earn  sufficient  to  live  upon.  Servants  are  about  the 
only  ones  who  ever  eat  their  fill." 

"  I  will  be  a  servant,  if  necessary." 

For  two  or  three  seconds  he  remained  taken  aback,  but, 
recovering  himself,  resumed  in  an  insinuating  tone,  "  How 
different  things  would  be,  if  you  had  not  rejected  me  when 
I  wanted  to  become  your  husband  !  But  you  could  not 
bear  the  sight  of  me.  And  yet,  upon  my  word  I  was  in  love 
with  you,  oh,  but  for  good  and  earnest !  You  see,  I  am  a 
judge  of  women  ;  and  I  saw  very  well  what  a  sensation 
you  would  create,  handsomely  dressed  and  leaning  back  in 
a  fine  carriage  in  the  Bois — " 

Stronger  than  her  will,  disgust  rose  to  her  lips.  "  Ah, 
sir !  "  she  cried. 

He  mistook  her  meaning.  "  You  regret  all  that,"  he 
continued.  "  I  see  it  very  well.  Formerly,  eh,  you  would 
never  have  consented  to  receive  me  thus,  alone  with  you  ? 
All  this  proves  that  girls  should  not  be  headstrong,  miy 
dear  child." 

He,  Costeclar,  dared  to  called  her,  "My  dear  child." 
"  Oh  !  "  she  exclaimed  indignantly. 

Without  heeding  her,  he  went  on  :  "  Well,  such  as  I 
was,  I  am  still.  To  be  sure,  it  might  no  longer  be  a  ques- 
tion of  marriage  between  us ;  but,  frankly,  what  would 
that  matter  to  you,  if  the  conditions  were  the  same,  and  \i 
you  had,  nevertheless,  a  furnished  house,  carriages,  horses, 
servants—" 

Up  to  this  moment,  she  had  not  fully  understood  him. 
Drawing  herself  up  to  her  full  height,  and  pointing  to  the 
door,  she  cried  :  "  Leave  the  room  instantly  !  " 

But  he  seemed  in  no  wise  disposed  to  do  so  :  on  the 
contrary,  paler  than  usual  his  eyes  bloodshot,  his  lips 
trembling,  and  smiling  a  strange  smile,  he  advanced  to- 
wards Mademoiselle  Gilberte.    "  What !  "  said  he.    "  You 


148 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


are  in  trouble.  I  kindly  come  to  offer  my  services,  and 
this  is  how  you  receive  me  !  You  prefer  to  work,  do  you  ? 
Very  well  then  my  lovely  one,  prick  your  pretty  fingers, 
and  tire  your  eyes.  My  time  will  come :  Fatigue  and 
want,  the  winter  cold,  hunger  in  all  seasons,  will  speak  to 
your  little  heart  of  that  kind  Costeclar  who  adores  you, 
like  a  big  fool  that  he  is,  who  is  a  man  of  business,  and 
who  has  money,  plenty  of  money.'^ 

"  Wretch !  "  cried  the  girl  beside  herself ;  "  leave  me, 
leave  the  room  at  once  ! 

"  One  moment,"  said  a  strong  voice. 

M.  Costaclar  looked  round.  Marius  de  Tregars  stood 
at  the  open  door. 

Marius !  "  murmured  Gilberte,  rooted  to  the  spot  by 
a  surprise  hardly  less  immense  than  her  joy.  To  behold 
him  thus  suddenly,  when  she  was  wondering  whether  she 
would  ever  look  upon  him  again,  to  see  him  appear  at  the 
very  moment  when  she  found  herself  exposed  to  the  gross- 
est insults,  was  one  of  those  fortunate  occurrences  which 
one  can  scarcely  realize  ;  and  from  the  depths  of  her  soul 
rose  something  like  a  hymn  of  thanks.  Nevertheless,  she 
was  confounded  at  M.  Costeclar's  attitude.  According 
to  her  idea,  and  from  what  she  thought  she  knew,  he 
should  have  been  petrified  at  the  sight  of  M.  de  Tregars. 
But  he  did  not  even  seem  to  know  him.  He  appeared 
shocked,  annoyed  at  being  interruped,  slightly  surprised, 
but  in  no  wise  moved  or  frightened. 

Knitting  his  brows,  he  inquired  in  his  most  impertinent 
tone  :  "  What  do  you  wish  ?  " 

M.  de  Tregars  stepped  forward.  He  was  somewhat 
pale,  but  unnaturally  calm,  cool,  and  collected.  Bowing 
to  Mademoiselle  Gilberte,  he  said  gently :  "  If  I  have  thus 
ventured  to  appear  before  you,  mademoiselle,  it  is  because, 
as  I  was  passing  the  house,  I  thought  I  recognized  this 
gentleman's  carriage."  And  he  pointed  over  his  shoulder 
to  M.  Costeclar. 

"  Now,"  he  continued,  "  I  had  reason  to  be  somewhat 
astonished  at  this,  after  the  positive  orders  I  had  given 
him  never  to  set  his  feet,  not  only  in  this  house,  but  in 
this  part  of  the  city.  I  wished  to  find  out  exactly  what 
it  meant,  I  came  up,  I  heard — " 

All  this  was  said  in  a  tone  of  such  crushing  contempt, 
that  a  slap  on  the  face  would  have  been  less  cruel.  A13 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


149 


the  blood  in  M.  Costeclar's  veins  seemed  to  rush  to  his 
face.  "  You  !  he  interrupted  insolently  ;  I  do  not  know 
you." 

Perfectly  imperturbable,  M.  de  Tregars  was  drawing 
off  his  gloves.  "  Are  you  quite  sure  of  that  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  Come,  you  certainly  know  my  old  friend,  M.  de 
Villegre  ?  " 

An  evident  feeling  of  anxiety  appeared  on  M.  Costeclar's 
countenance.    "  I  do,"  he  stammered. 

"  Did  not  M.  de  Villegre  call  upon  you  before  the 
war?" 

"  He  did." 

"  Well,  it  w^as  I  who  sent  him  to  you  ;  and  the  commands 
which  he  delivered  to  you  were  mine." 
"  Yours  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mine.    I  am  Marius  de  Tregars." 

A  nervous  shudder  shook  M.  Costeclar's  lean  frame. 
Instinctively  his  eye  turned  towards  the  door. 

"  You  see,"  Marius  went  on  in  the  same  quiet  tone, 
"  you  and  I  are  old  acquaintances.  For  you  quite  re- 
member me  now,  don't  you  ?  I  am  the  son  of  that  poor 
Marquis  de  Tregars  who  came  to  Paris,  all  the  way  from 
Brittany,  with  his  whole  fortune,  more  than  two  millions." 

"  I  remember,"  said  the  stock-broker,  I  remember 
perfectly  well !  " 

On  the  advice  of  certain  clever  people,  the  Marquis 
de  Tregars  ventured  into  business.  Poor  old  man  !  He 
was  not  very  sharp  !  He  was  firmly  persuaded  that  he 
had  already  more  than  doubled  his  capital,  when  his 
honourable  partners  demonstrated  to  him  that  he  was 
ruined,  and  besides  that  compromised  by  certain  signatures 
imprudently  given." 

Gilberte  was  listening,  with  her  mouth  wide  open,  and 
wondering  what  Marius  was  aiming  at,  and  how  he  could 
remain  so  calm. 

"  That  disaster,"  he  continued,  "  was  at  the  time  the 
subject  of  an  enormous  number  of  very  witty  jokes.  The 
frequenters  of  the  Bourse  could  hardly  admire  enough 
those  bold  financiers  who  had  so  deftly  relieved  that  can- 
did marquis  of  his  money.  It  served  him  right,  why  did 
he  meddle  in  such  things  t  As  to  myself,  to  stop  the  prose- 
cutions with  which  my  father  was  threatened,  I  gave  up 
all  I  had.    I  was  quite  young,  and,  as  you  see,  quite  what 


I50     '  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 

you  call  *  green.'  I  am  no  longer  so  now.  Were  such  a 
thing  to  happen  to  me  to-day,  I  should  want  to  know  at 
once  what  had  become  of  the  millions ;  I  would  feel  all 
the  pockets  around  me  ;  I  would  cry  :  *  Stop  thief  t '  " 

At  every  word,  at  it  were,  M.  Costeclar's  uneasiness 
became  more  manifest.  "  It  was  not  I,''  he  said,  "  who 
benefited  by  M.  de  Tregars's  fortune." 

Marius  nodded.  "  I  know  now,''  he  replied,  "  among 
whom  the  spoils  were  divided.  You,  M.  Costeclar,  you 
took  what  you  could  get,  timidly,  and  according  to  your 
means.  Sharks  are  always  accompanied  by  small  fishes, 
to  which  they  abandon  the  crumbs  they  disdain.  You 
were  but  a  small  fish  then  :  you  accommodated  yourself 
with  what  your  patrons,  the  sharks,  did  not  care  about. 
But,  when  you  tried  to  operate  alone,  you  were  not  shrewd 
enough,  you  left  proofs  of  your  excessive  appetite  for 
other_^eo^le's  money.  Those  proofs  I  have  in  my  pos- 
session.^ — 

M.  Costeclar  was  now  undergoing  perfect  torture.  I 
am  powerless,"  he  said,  "  I  know  it ;  I  told  M.  de  Villegre 
so." 

"  Why  are  you  here,  then  ?  " 

"  How  did  I  know  that  the  count  had  been  sent  by 
you  ?  " 

"  That's  a  poor  reason,  sir." 

"  Besides,  after  what  has  occurred,  after  FavoraFs  flighty 
I  thought  myself  relieved  of  my  engagement." 
"  Indeed ! " 

"  Well,  if  you  insist  upon  it,  I  was  wrong,  I  suppose." 

"  Not  only  were  you  wrong,"  said  Marius  still  perfectly 
cool,  "  but  you  have  committed  a  great  imprudence.  By 
failing  to  keep  your  promises,  you  have  relieved  me  of 
mine.  The  pact  is  broken.  According  to  the  agreement, 
I  have  the  right,  on  leaving  here,  to  go  straight  to  the 
police." 

M.  Costeclar's  dull  eye  vacillated.  I  did  not  think  I 
was  doing  wrong,"  he  stammered.  "Favoral  was  my 
friend—" 

"  And  that  is  why  you  came  to  propose  to  Mademoiselle 
Favoral  to  become  your  mistress  ?  You  thought  to  your- 
self :  '  She  is  without  resources,  literally  without  bread, 
without  friends  to  protect  her :  now  is  the  time  to  come 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


forward.'  And  thinking  you  could  be  cowardly,  vile,  and 
base  with  impunity,  you  came.'' 

To  be  thus  treated,  he,  the  successful  man,  in  presence 
of  this  young  girl,  whom,  a  moment  before,  he  was  crush- 
ing with  his  impudent  opulence,  no,  M.  Costeclar  could 
not  stand  it  Forgetting  all  prudence  he  exclaimed  : 
"  You  should  have  let  me  know,  then,  that  she  was  your 
mistress  ! " 

Something  like  a  flame  passed  over  M.  de  Tregars's 
face.  His  eyes  flashed.  Rising  in  all  the  height  of  his 
wrath,  which  broke  out  terrible  at  last,  Ah  you  scoun- 
drel ! he  cried. 

M.  Costeclar  jumped  hastily  aside.       Sir  ! '' 

But  at  one  bound,  M.  de  Tregars  had  caught  him.  On 
your  knees !  "  he  shouted.  And,  seizing  him  by  the 
collar  with  an  iron  grip,  he  lifted  him  clear  off  the  floor, 
and  then  threw  him  down  violently  upon  both  knees. 
"  Speak  !    he  commanded.    "  Repeat :  '  Mademoiselle — ' 

M.  Costeclar  had  expected  worse  from  M.  de  Tregars's 
look.  A  horrible  fear  had  instantly  crushed  within  him  all 
idea  of  resistance.  Mademoiselle — ''  he  stuttered  in  a 
choking  voice. 

"  I  am  the  vilest  of  wretches — "  continued  Marius. 

M.  Costeclar's  livid  face  was  oscillating  like  an  inert 
object.    "  I  am,"  he  repeated,  "  the  vilest  of  wretches — " 

"  And  I  beg  you — " 

But  Gilberte  was  sick  of  the  sight.  Enough,"  she  in- 
terrupted, "  enough ! " 

Feeling  no  longer  M.  de  Tregars's  heavy  hand  upon  his 
shoulders,  the  stock-broker  rose  with  difficulty  to  his  feet. 
So  livid  was  his  face,  that  pne  might  have  thought  that  all 
his  blood  had  turned  to  gall.  Dusting  the  knees  of  his 
trousers  with  the  end  of  his  glove,  and  restoring  as  best 
he  could  the  harmony  of  his  dress,  which  had  been  se- 
riously disturbed,  he  muttered  between  his  teeth :  "  Is  it 
showing  any  courage  to  take  advantage  of  one's  physical 
strength  ? " 

M.  de  Tregars  had  already  recovered  his  self-posses- 
sion, and  Gilberte  thought  she  could  read  upon  his  face 
regret  for  his  violence.  Would  it  have  been  better  to 
have  made  use  of  you  know  what  t  " 

M.  Costeclar  clasped  his  hands.    "You  would  not  do 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


that,"  he  cried.  "  What  good  would  it  do  you  to  ruin 
me  ?  " 

"  None,"  answered  M.  de  Tregars :  "  you  are  right. 
But  yourself — ?  "  And,  looking  straight  into  M.  Costeclar's 
eyes,  If  you  could  be  of  service  to  me,"  he  inquired, 
"  would  you  be  willing  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,  to  recover  possession  of  the  papers  you 
have." 

M.  de  Tregars  reflected,  "  After  what  has  just  taken 
place,"  he  said  at  last,  "  an  explanation  is  necessary 
between  us.  I  will  be  at  your  house  in  an  hour.  Wait 
there  for  me." 

M.  Costeclar  had  become  more  pliable  than  his  own 
lavender  kid  gloves  ;  in  fact,  alarmingly  pliable.  "  I  am  at 
your  command,  sir,"  he  replied  to  M.  de  Tregars.  And, 
bowing  to  the  ground  before  Mademoiselle  Gilberte,  he 
left  the  drawing-room.  A  few  minutes  after,  his  carriage 
drove  off. 

"  Ah,  what  a  wretch  !  "  exclaimed  the  young  girl,  dread- 
fully agitated.  ^^Marius,  did  you  see  what  a  look  he 
gave  us  as  he  went  out  1 " 

I  saw  it,"  replied  M.  de  Tregars. 

"That  man  hates  us.  He  will  not  hesitate  to  commit  a 
crime  to  avenge  the  atrocious  humiliation  you  have  just 
inflicted  upon  him." 

"I  believe  you." 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte  made  a  gesture  of  distress. 
Why  did  you  treat  him  so  harshly  ?  "  she  murmured. 

"  I  had  intended  to  keep  calm,  and  it  would  have  been 
politic  to  have  done  so.  But  there  are  some  insults  which 
a  man  of  heart  cannot  endure.  I  do  not  regret  what  I 
have  done." 

A  long  pause  followed,  and  they  remained  standing, 
facing  each  other,  somewhat  embarrassed.  Gilberte  felt 
ashamed  of  the  disorder  of  her  dress.  M.  de  Tregars 
wondered  how  he  could  have  been  bold  enough  to  enter 
the  house  as  he  did. 

"  You  have  heard  of  our  misfortune  ?  "  said  the  young 
girl  at  last. 

"  I  saw  it  this  morning  in  the  papers." 

"  What  !  the  papers  know  already  ?  " 

"  Everything." 

"  And  our  name  is  printed  in  them  ? " 


G  THER  PEOPLE'S  MONE  Y.  1 5.] 


■    "  Yes/' 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  What  disgrace  ! " 
she  exclaimed. 

At  first,"  said  M,  de  Tregars,  "  I  could  not  believe  it. 
I  hastened  to  come  ;  and  the  first  tradesman  I  questioned 
confirmed  only  too  fully  what  I  had  read  in  the  papers. 
From  that  moment,  I  had  but  one  wish — to  speak  to  you. 
When  I  reached  the  door,  I  noticed  M.  Costeclar's  equi- 
page, and  I  had  a  presentiment  of  the  truth.  I  saw  the 
concierge,  and  asked  to  see  your  mother  or  your  brother, 
and  heard  that  Maxence  had  gone  out  a  fev/  moments  be- 
fore, and  that  Madame  Favoral  had  just  left  in  a  cab  with 
M.  Chapelain.  At  the  idea  that  you  were  alone  with  M. 
Costeclar,  I  could  not  hesitate.  I  ran  up  the  stairs,  and, 
finding  the  door  open,  had  no  occasion  to  ring." 

Gilberte  could  hardly  repress  the  sobs  that  rose  in  her 
throat.  "  I  never  hoped  to  see  you  again,"  she  stam- 
mered, ^*and  you  will  find  there  on  the  table  the  letter  I 
had  just  commenced  for  you  when  M.  Costeclar  inter- 
rupted me." 

M.  de  Tregars  took  it  up  quickly.  Two  lines  only 
were  written.  He  read :  I  release  you  from  your  en- 
gagement, Marius,  henceforth  you  are  free." 

He  became  as  white  as  a  sheet.  You  wish  to  release 
me  from  my  engagement,"  he  exclaimed. 

Is  it  not  my  duty  ?  Ah  !  if  it  had  only  been  a  ques- 
tion of  our  fortune,  I  should  perhaps  have  rejoiced  to  lose 
it.  I  know  your  heart.  Poverty  would  have  brought  us 
nearer  together.  But  it  is  honour,  Marius,  honour  that  is 
lost !  The  name  I  bear  is  forever  stained.  Whether  my 
father  is  caught,  or  whether  he  escapes,  he  will  be  tried  all 
the  same,  condemned,  and  sentenced  to  a  degrading  pen- 
alty for  embezzlement  and  forgery." 

If  M.  de  Tregars  allowed  her  to  proceed  thus,  it  was 
because  he  felt  all  his  thoughts  whirling  in  his  brain ;  because 
she  looked  so  beautiful,  all  in  tears,  and  her  hair  dishev- 
elled ;  because  there  arose  from  her  person  so  subtle  a 
charm,  that  words  failed  him  to  express  the  sensations  that 
agitated  him. 

"  Can  you,"  she  continued,  "  take  for  your  wife  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  dishonoured  man  ?  No,  you  cannot.  Forgive  me, 
then,  for  having  for  a  moment  turned  away  your  life  from 
Its  object ;  forgive  the  sorrow  I  have  caused  you  ;  leave  me 


154 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


to  the  misery  of  my  fate ;  forget  me  !  She  was  sufifoca* 
ting. 

"  Ah,  you  have  never  loved  me  !    exclaimed  Marius, 

"  O  heavens  !  "  she  cried. 
Would  it  be  easy  for  you  to  forget  me  then  ?    Were  I 
to  be  struck  by  misfortune,  would  you  break  our  engage- 
ment, cease  to  love  me  ?  " 

She  took  his  hands,  and,  pressed  them  between  hers. 
"  To  cease  loving  you  no  longer  depends  on  my  will,"  she 
murmured  with  quivering  lips.  Poor,  abandoned  of  all, 
disgraced,  criminal  even,  I  should  love  you  still  and  al- 
ways." 

Marius  threw  his  arms  around  her  waist,  and,  drawing 
her  to  his  breast,  covered  her  fair  hair  with  burning  kisses. 
"  Well,  it  is  thus  that  I  love  you  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  and 
with  all  my  soul,  exclusively,  and  for  life  !  What  do  I  care 
for  your  relations  ?  Do  I  know  them  ?  Your  father,  does 
he  even  exist  ?  Your  name  is  mine,  the  spotless  name  of 
Tregars.    You  are  my  wife  !  you  are  mine,  mine  !  " 

She  was  struggling  feebly,  an  almost  invincible  torpor 
was  creeping  over  her.  She  felt  her  reason  was  going,  her 
energy  giving  way,  her  eyes  became  clouded,  and  a  want 
of  air  oppressed  her  heaving  chest.  A  great  effort  of  her 
will  restored  her  to  consciousness.  She  disengaged  her- 
self gently  from  the  arms  of  her  lover,  and  sank  upon  a 
chair,  less  strong  against  joy  than  she  had  been  against 
sorrow.  "  Forgive  me,"  she  stammered,  forgive  me  for 
having  doubted  you  !  " 

M.  de  Tregars  was  not  much  less  agitated  than  Gilberte ; 
but  he  was  a  man,  and  the  springs  of  his  energy  were  of  a 
superior  temper.  In  less  than  a  minute  he  had  fully  re- 
covered his  self-possession,  and  imposed  upon  his  features 
their  accustomed  expression.  Drawing  a  chair  by  the  side 
of  Mademoiselle  Gilberte,  he  said  :  Permit  me,  my  friend, 
to  remind  you  that  our  moments  are  numbered,  and  that 
there  are  many  details  which  it  is  urgent  that  I  should 
know." 

"  What  details  ? "  she  asked,  raising  her  head. 
"  About  your  father." 

She  looked  at  him  with  an  air  of  profound  surprise. 
Do  you  not  know  more  about  it  than  I  do  ?  "  she  replied, 
"  more  than  my  mother  more  than  any  of  us  ?    Is  it  not 
you  who,  whilst  following  up  the  people  who  robbed  your 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


155 


father,  have  stricken  mine  unwittingly  ?  And  it  is  I,  mis- 
erable girl  that  I  am,  who  inspired  you  with  that  fatal  res- 
olution ;  and  I  have  not  the  heart  to  regret  it/' 

M.  de  Tregars  had  blushed  imperceptibly.  How  did 
you  know  ?  "  he  began. 

Was  it  not  said  that  you  were  about  to  marry  Made- 
moiselle de  Thaller  ? " 

Never,"  he  exclaimed,  has  the  idea  of  this  marriage 
existed,  except  in  the  brain  of  M.  de  Thaller,  and,  more 
still,  of  the  Baroness  de  Thaller.  It  occurred  to  her  be- 
cause she  likes  my  name,  and  would  be  delighted  to  see 
her  daughter  Marchioness  de  Tregars.  She  has  never 
breathed  a  word  of  it  to  me ;  but  she  has  spoken  of  it 
eyerywhere,  with  just  enough  secrecy  to  make  it  a  good 
piece  of  gossip.  She  went  so  far  as  to  confide  to  several 
persons  of  my  acquaintance  the  amount  of  the  dowry,  think- 
ing thus  to  encourage  me.  As  far  as  I  could,  I  warned 
you  against  this  false  news  through  the  intermedium  of  Sig' 
nor  Gismondo." 

"  Signor  Gismondo  relieved  me  of  cruel  anxieties,"  she 
replied  ;  "  but  I  suspected  the  truth  from  the  first.  Was 
I  not  the  confidante  of  your  hopes  ?  Did  I  not  know^  your 
projects  1  I  had  taken  for  granted  that  all  this  talk  about 
a  marriage  was  but  a  means  to  advance  yourself  in  M.  de 
Thaller's  intimacy  without  aw^akening  his  suspicions." 

M.  de  Tregarsvkas  not  the  man  to  deny  the  truth.  "  Per- 
haps, indeed,  I  have  not  been  wholly  foreign  to  M.  Fa- 
voral's  disaster,"  he  said.  "  At  least  I  may  have  hastened  it 
a  few  months,  a  few  days  only,  perhaps  ;  for  it  was  inevi- 
table. Nevertheless,  had  I  suspected  the  real  facts,  I 
would  have  given  up  my  designs,  Gilberte,  I  swear  it,  rather 
than  risk  injuring  your  father.  There  is  no  undoing  what 
is  done ;  but  the  evil  may,  perhaps,  be  somewhat  less- 
ened." 

Gilberte  started.  Great  heavens  !  "  she  exclaimed, 
"  do  you,  then,  believe  my  father  innocent  ?  " 

Better  than  any  one  else,  Gilberte  must  have  been  con- 
vinced  of  her  father's  guilt.  Had  she  not  seen  him  humil- 
iated and  trembling  before  M.  de  Thaller?  Had  she  not 
heard  him,  as  it  were,  acknowledge  the  truth  of  the  charge 
that  was  brought  against  him  ;  but  at  twenty  hope  never 
forsakes  us,  even  in  presence  of  facts.  And  when  she  un- 
derstood by  M.  de  Tregars's  silence  that  she  was  mistaken, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


she  bowed  her  head  and  murmured  :  It  is  madness,  I  feel 
it  but  too  well ;  but  the  heart  speaks  louder  than  reason. 
It  is  so  cruel  to  be  driven  to  despise  one's  father  !  "  She 
wiped  away  the  tears  which  filled  her  eyes,  and,  in  a  firmer 
voice,  continued  :  "  What  happens  is  so  incomprehensible  ! 
How  can  I  help  imagining  one  of  those  mysteries  w^hich  time 
alone  unravels.  For  twenty-four  hours  we  have  been  lost 
in  idle  conjectures,  but  always  and  fatally,  we  come  to 
this  conclusion — that  my  father  must  be  the  victim  of  some 
mysterious  intrigue.  M.  Chapelain,  w^hom  a  loss  of  a  hun- 
dred and  sixty  thousand  francs  has  not  made  particularly 
indulgent,  is  of  that  opinion.'' 

"  And  so  am  I,"  exclaimed  Marius. 

"  You  see,  then — " 

But  without  allowing  her  to  proceed,  and  gently  taking 
her  hand,  he  resumed  :  "  Let  me  tell  you  all,  and  try  with 
you  to  find  an  issue  to  -this  horrible  situation.  Strange 
rumours  are  afloat  about  M.  Favoral.  It  is  said  that  his 
austerity  was  but  a  mask,  his  sordid  economy  a  means  of 
gaining  confidence.  It  is  affirmed  that  he  in  fact  aban- 
doned himself  to  all  sorts  of  dissipation ;  that  he  had,  some- 
where in  Paris,  another  home,  where  he  squandered  the 
money  of  which  he  was  so  sparing  here.  Is  it  true  ?  The 
same  thing  is  said  of  all  those  in  whose  hands  large  for- 
tunes have  melted  away. 

The  young  girl  blushed  deeply.  I  believe  it  is  true," 
she  replied.  "  The  commissary  of  police  stated  so  to  us. 
He  found  among  my  father's  papers  receipted  bills  for  a 
number  of  costly  articles,  which  could  only  have  been  in 
tended  for  a  woman." 

M.  de  Tregars  looked  perplexed.  And  does  any  one 
know  who  this  woman  is  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No." 

"  Whoever  she  may  be,  I  admit  that  she  may  have  cost 
M.  Favoral  considerable  sums.  But  can  she  have  cost 
him  twelve  millions  ?  " 

"  That  is  precisely  the  remark  which  M.  Chapelain 
made." 

And  which  every  sensible  man  must  also  make.  I 
know  very  well  that  to  conceal  for  years  a  considerable 
deficit  is  a  costly  operation,  requiring  purchases  and  sales, 
the  handling  and  shifting  of  funds,  all  of  which  is  ruinous 
in  the  extreme.    But,  on  the  other  hand,  M.  Favoral  was 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


157 


making  money,  a  great  deal  of  money.  He  was  rich  :  he 
was  supposed  to  be  worth  millions.  Had  it  been  other- 
wise, Costeclar  would  never  have  asked  your  hand." 

"  M.  Chapelain  says  that  at  a  certain  time  my  father 
had  at  least  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year." 
It  is  irTcomprehensible." 

For  two  or  three  minutes  M.  de  Tregars  remained  silent, 
reviewing  in  his  mind  every  imaginable  eventuality,  and 
then  he  resumed :  "But  no  matter.  As  soon  as  I  heard 
this  morning  the  amount  of  the  deficit,  doubts  came  to  my 
mind.  And  it  was  for  that  reason,  dear  friend,  that  I  was 
so  anxious  to  see  you  and  speak  to  you.  It  is  necessary 
for  me  to  know  exactly  what  occurred  here  last  night." 

Rapidly,  but  without  omitting  a  single  useful  detail,  Gil- 
berte  narrated  the  scenes  of  the  previous  night,  the  sudden 
appearance  of  M.  de  Thaller,  the  arrival  of  the  commissary 
of  police,  M.  FavoraPs  escape,  thanks  to  Maxence's  pres- 
ence of  mind.  Everyone  of  her  father's  words  had  re- 
mained fixed  in  her  memory;  and  it  was  almost  literally 
that  she  repeated  his  strange  speeches  to  his  indignant 
friends,  and  his  incoherent  remarks  at  the  moment  of  flight, 
when,  whilst  acknowledging  his  fault,  he  said  that  he  was 
not  as  guilty  as  they  thought ;  that,  at  any  rate,  he  was  not 
alone  guilty,  and  that  he  had  been  shamefully  sacrificed. 

"  That  is  exactly  what  I  thought,"  said  M.  de  Tregars, 
when  she  had  finished  speaking. 

"  What  ? " 

"  M.  Favoral  played  a  part  in  one  of  those  terrible  finan- 
cial dramas  which  ruin  a  thousand  poor  dupes  to  the  ben- 
efit of  two  or  three  clever  rascals.  Your  father  wanted  to 
be  rich ;  he  needed  money  to  carry  on  his  intrigues.  He 
allowed  himself  to  be  tempted.  But  whilst  he  believed 
himself  one  of  the  managers,  called  upon  to  divide  the  re- 
ceipts, he  was  but  a  supernumerary  with  a  stated  salary. 
The  moment  of  the  denouement  having  come,  his  so- 
called  partners  disappeared  through  a  trap-door  with  the 
cash,  leaving  him  alone  to  face  the  audience  who  want 
their  money  back." 

"If  that  is  the  case,"  said  the  young  girl,  "why  didn't 
my  father  speak  ?  " 

"  What  could  he  say  ?  " 

"  Name  his  accomplices." 

"  And  suppose  he  had  no  proofs  of  their  complicity  to 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


offer  ?  He  was  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank ; 
'  and  it  is  from  his  safe  that  the  milHons  are  missing/' 

Mademoiselle  Gilberte's  conjectures  had  run  far  ahead 
of  that  sentence.  Looking  Marius  straight  in  the  face, 
she  said  :  "  Then  you  believe  the  same  as  M.  Chapelain, 
that  M.  de  Thaller— 

"  Ah  !  M.  Chapelain  thinks— 
I  hat  the  manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  must 
have  known  of  the  embezzlements.'' 

And  that  he  had  his  share  of  them  ? " 
A  larger  share  than  his  cashier,  yes." 

A  singular  smile  played  on  M.  de  Tregars's  lips. 
"  Quite  possible,"  he  added,    that's  quite  possible." 

For  a  few  moments  Gilberte's  embarrassment  was  quite 
evident  in  her  look.  At  last,  overcoming  her  hesitation, 
she  resumed :  "  Forgive  me,  but  I  had  imagined  that  M. 
de  Thaller  was  one  of  those  men  whom  you  wished  to 
strike ;  and  I  had  indulged  in  the  hope,  that,  whilst  having 
justice  done  to  your  father,  you  were  thinking,  perhaps,  of 
avenging  mine." 

M.  de  Tregars  jumped  up,  as  if  moved  by  a  spring. 
"  Well,  yes  !  "  he  exclaimed,  you  guessed  correctly.  But 
how  can  we  obtain  this  double  result  ?  A  single  mistake 
at  this  moment  might  lose  all.  Ah,  if  I  only  knew  your 
father's  real  position  ;  if  I  could  only  see  him  and  speak  to 
him !  In  one  word  he  might,  perhaps,  place  in  my  hands 
a  powerful  weapon,  the  weapon  that  I  have  as  yet  been  un- 
able to  find." 

"  Unfortunately,"  replied  Gilberte  with  a  gesture  of  de- 
spair, "  we  are  without  news  of  my  father ;  and  he  even  re- 
fused to  tell  us  where  he  intended  to  take  refuge." 

But  he  will  write,  perhaps.  Besides,  we  might  look 
for  him,  cautiously,  so  as  not  to  excite  the  suspicions  of 
the  police ;  and  if  your  brother  Maxence  was  only  willing 
to  help  me — " 

"  Alas  1  I  fear  that  Maxence  may  have  other  occupa- 
tions. He  insisted  upon  going  out  this  morning,  in  spite 
of  my  mother's  request  to  the  contrary." 

But  Marius  stopped  her,  and,  in  the  tone  of  a  man  who 
knows  much  more  than  he  is  willing  to  tell,  he  said  :  "  Do 
not  calumniate  Maxence ;  it  is  through  him,  perhaps,  that 
we  shall  receive  the  help  that  we  need." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 


159 


Eleven  o'clock  struck.  Gilberte  started.  "  Dear  me  ! " 
she  exclaimed,  ^'my  mother  will  be  home  directl}'." 

M.  de  Tregars  might  as  well  have  waited  for  her. 
Henceforth  he  had  nothing  to  conceal.  Yet,  after  duly 
deliberating  with  the  young  girl,  they  decided  that  he 
should  withdraw,  and  send  M.  de  Villegre  to  declare  his 
intentions.  He  then  left,  and,  five  minutes  later,  Madame 
Favoral  and  M.  Chapelain  appeared.  The  ex-lawyer  was 
furious ;  and  he  threw  the  bundle  of  bank-notes  upon  the 
table  with  a  movement  of  rage.  In  order  to  return  them 
to  M.  de  Thaller,"  he  exclaimed,  "it  was  at  least  neces- 
sary to  see  him.  But  the  gentleman  is  invisible ;  he  keeps 
himself  under  lock  and  key,  guarded  by  a  perfect  crowd  of 
servants  in  livery." 

Meantime,  Madame  Favoral  had  approached  her  daugh- 
ter.   "  Your  brother  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  whisper. 

"  He  has  not  yet  come  home." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  sighed  the  poor  mother :  "  at  such  a  time 
he  abandons  us,  and  for  whose  sake  ? " 


XXV. 

Madame  Favoral,  usually  so  indulgent,  was  too  severe 
this  time ;  and  it  was  very  unjustly  that  she  accused  her 
son.  She  forgot,  and  what  mother  does  not  forget,  that 
he  was  twenty-five  years  .of  age,  that  he  was  a  man,  and 
that  he  had  his  own  interests  and  passions,  his  affections 
?\nd  his  duties.  Because  he  happened  to  leave  the  house 
for  a  few  hours,  Maxence  was  surely  not  forsaking  either 
his  mother  or  his  sister.  It  was  not  without  a  severe  in- 
ternal struggle  that  he  had  decided  to  go  out,  and  as  he 
was  going  down  the  stairs,  he  thought,  "  Poor  mother,  I 
am  sure  I  am  making  her  very  unhappy  \  but  how  can  I 
help  it  t  "  This  was  the  first  time  that  he  had  been  in  the 
street  since  his  father's  disaster  had  been  known ;  and  the 
impression  produced  upon  him  was  painful  in  the  extreme. 
Formerly,  when  he  walked  through  the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  that 
street  where  he  was  born,  and  where  he  used  to  play  as  a 
child,  everyone  met  him  with  a  friendly  nod  or  a  familiar 
smile.  True,  he  was  then  the  son  of  a  man  rich  and  highly 
esteemed ;  whereas,  this  morning,  not  a  hand  was  extended, 
not  a  hat  raised  on  his  passage.    People  whispered  among 


i6o 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


themselves,  and  pointed  him  out  with  looks  of  hatred  and 
irony.  That  was  because  he  was  now  the  son  of  the  dishon- 
est cashier  tracked  by  the  police,  of  the  man  whose  crime 
brought  disaster  upon  so  many  innocent  parties. 

Mortified  and  ashamed,  Maxence  was  hurrying  on,  his 
head  cast  down,  his  cheek  burning,  his  throat  parched, 
when,  in  front  of  a  wine-shop,  a  man  exclaimed  :  Halloo  \ 
why,  that's  the  son.    Well,  he  has  cheek  !  " 

And  farther  on,  in  front  of  the  grocer's :  "  I  tell  you 
what,"  said  a  woman  in  the  midst  of  a  group,  "  they  still 
have  more  than  we've  got." 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  he  understood  with  what  crush- 
ing weight  his  father's  crime  would  weigh  upon  his  whole 
life  ;  and,  whilst  going  along  the  Rue  de  Turenne,  he  mur- 
mured :    "  It's  all  over,  I  shall  never  get  over  it." 

And  he  thought  of  changing  his  name,  of  emigrating  to 
America,  and  hiding  himself  in  the  deserts  of  the  Far  West, 
when,  a  little  farther  on,  he  noticed  a  group  of  some  thirty 
persons  in  front  of  a  newspaper-stand.  The  vendor,  a  fat 
little  man  with  a  red  face  and  an  impudent  look,  was  cry- 
ing in  a  hoarse  voice  :  "  Here  are  the  morning  papers  i 
The  latest  editions  !  All  the  details  of  the  robbery  of  twelve 
millions  by  a  poor  cashier.    Buy  the  morning  papers ! " 

And,  to  stimulate  the  sale  of  his  wares,  he  added  all 
sorts  of  jokes  of  his  own  invention,  saying  that  the  thief 
belonged  to  the  neighbourhood ;  that  it  was  quite  flatter- 
ing for  such  a  backward  locality  as  the  Marais.  The  crowd 
laughed  :  and  he  went  on  :  "  The  cashier  Favoral's  robbery  ! 
twelve  millions  1    Buy  the  paper,  and  see  how  it's  done." 

And  so  the  scandal  was  public,  and  all  Paris  was  talking 
of  it.  Maxence  was  listening  a  few  steps  off.  He  felt  in- 
clined to  pass  on ;  but  an  imperative  feeling,  stronger  than 
his  will,  made  him  anxious  to  see  what  the  papers  said. 
Suddenly  he  made  up  his  mind,  and,  going  up  to  the  man, 
he  threw  down  three  sous,  seized  a  paper,  and  hastened 
away. 

"  Not  very  polite,  is  he  ? "  remarked  two  idlers  whom  he 
had  pushed  a  little  roughly. 

Quick  as  he  had  been,  a  shopkeeper  of  the  Rue  de  Tu- 
renne had  had  time  to  recognize  him,  "  Why,  that's  the 
cashier's  son !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  " 

"  Why  don't  they  arrest  him  ?  '^ 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY,  l6l 

Half  a  dozen  curious  fellows,  more  eager  than  the  rest, 
ran  after  him  to  try  and  see  his  face.  But  he  was  already 
far  off.  Leaning  against  a  lamp-post  on  the  Boulevard  du 
Temple,  he  unfolded  the  paper  he  had  just  bought.  He 
had  n:?  -ouble  in  finding  the  article.  In  the  middle  of 
the  first  page,  in  the  most  prominent  position,  he  read  in 
large  letters — 

"another  financial  disaster! 

"At  the  moment  of  going  to  press,  the  greatest  agitation 
prevails  among  the  stock-brokers  and  operators  of  the  lit- 
tle Bourse  generally,  owing  to  the  news  that  one  of  our 
great  banking  establishments  has  just  been  the  victim  of  a 
theft  of  unusual  magnitude.  At  about  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  the  manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank,  having 
need  of  some  documents,  went  to  look  for  them  in  the  office 
of  the  head  cashier,  who  was  then  absent.  A  memorandum 
forgotten  on  the  table  excited  his  suspicions.  Sending  at 
once  for  a  locksmith,  he  had  all  the  drawers  opened,  and 
soon  acquired  the  irrefutable  evidence  that  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank  had  been  defrauded  of  sums,  which,  as  far  as 
now  known,  amount  to  upwards  of  twelve  millions.  The 
police  was  at  once  notified ;  and  towards  seven  o'clock  M. 
Brosse,  commissary  of  police,  duly  provided  with  a  war- 
rant, called  at  the  guilty  cashier's  house.  The  cashier, 
whose  name  is  Favoral,  had  just  sat  down  to  dinner  with 
some  friends.  Warned,  no  one  knows  how,  he  succeeded 
in  escaping  through  a  window  into  the  court-yard  of  the 
adjoining  house,  and  up  to  this  hour  has  eluded  all  search. 
It  seems  that  his  embezzlements  had  been  going  on  for 
years,  but  had  been  skilfully  concealed  by  false  entries. 
M.  Favoral  had  managed  to  secure  the  esteem  of  all  who 
knew  him.  At  home  he  led  a  more  than  modest  exist- 
ence. But  that  was  only,  as  it  were,  his  official  life.  Else- 
where, and  under  another  name,  he  indulged  in  the  most 
reckless  expenses  for  the  sake  of  a  woman  with  whom  he 
was  madly  in  love.  Her  name  is  not  yet  known  to  the 
public.  Some  mention  a  very  fascinating  young  actress, 
who  performs  at  a  theatre  not  a  hundred  miles  from  the 
Passage  des  Panoramas  ;  others,  a  lady  belonging  to  the 
financial  high-life,  whose  equipages,  diamonds,  and  dresses 
are  justly  famed.  We  might  easily,  in  this  respect,  give 
II 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


particulars  which  would  astonish  many  people,  for  we  know 
all ;  bur,  at  the  risk  of  seeming  less  well-informed  than 
some  others  of  our  morning  contemporaries,  we  will  observe 
a  silence  which  our  readers  will  surely  appreciate.  We  do 
not  wish  to  add,  by  a  premature  indiscretion,  anf/t,ti'ng  to 
the  grief  of  a  family  already  so  cruelly  stricken ;  for  M. 
Favoral  leaves  behind  him  in  the  deepest  sorrow  a  v/ife  and 
two  children — a  son  of  twenty-five,  employed  in  a  railway 
office,  and  a  daughter  of  twenty,  remarkably  handsome, 
who,  a  few  months  ago,  was  on  the  point  of  marrying 
M.  C— 

Tears  of  rage  obscured  Maxence's  sight  wMst  reading 
the  last  few  lines  of  this  terrible  article.  To  find  himself 
thus  held  up  to  public  curiosity,  though  innocent,  was  more 
than  he  could  bear.  And  yet  he  was,  perhaps,  still  more 
surprised  than  indignant.  He  had  just  learned  in  that 
paper  more  than  his  father's  most  intimate  friends  knew, 
more  than  he  knew  himself.  Where  had  it  obtained  its 
information  }  And  what  could  be  those  other  details  which 
the  writer  pretended  to  know,  but  did  not  wish  to  publish 
as  yet  ?  Maxence  felt  like  running  to  the  office  of  the  pa- 
per, fancying  that  someone  there  could  tell  him  exactly 
where  and  under  what  name  M.  Favoral  led  that  existence  of 
pleasure  and  luxury,  and  who  the  woman  was  to  whom  the 
article  alluded.  But  in  the  meantime  he  had  reached  his 
hotel — the  Hotel  des  Folies.  After  a  moment  of  hesita- 
tion. Bah,"  he  thought,  "  I  have  the  whole  day  before  me 
to  call  at  the  office  of  the  paper." 

And  he  entered  the  corridor  of  the  hotel,  a  corridor 
that  was  so  long,  so  dark,  and  so  narrow,  that  it  gave  an 
idea  of  the  shaft  of  amine,  and  that  it  was  prudent,  before 
entering  it,  to  make  sure  that  no  one  was  coming  in  the 
opposite  direction.  The  hotel  took  its  name  from  the 
neighboring  Theatre  des  Folies-Nouvelles,  now  the  Theatre 
Dejazet.  It  consisted  of  the  rear  building  of  a  large  old 
house,  and  had  no  frontage  on  the  Boulevard,  where  noth- 
ing betrayed  its  existence,  except  a  large  lamp  hung  over 
a  low  and  narrow  door,  situated  between  a  cafe  and  a  con- 
fectioner's shop.  It  was  one  of  those  hotels,  of  which  there 
are  a  good  many  in  Paris,  somewhat  mysterious  and  sus- 
picious, ill-kept,  and  the  profits  of  which  remain  a  mystery 
-for  simple-minded  folks.  Who  occupy  the  rooms  of  the 
first  and  second  floors  ?    No  one  knows.    Never  have  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


163 


most  curious  of  the  neighbours  seen  the  face  of  a  tenant. 
And  yet  they  are  occupied ;  for  often,  in  the  afternoon,  a 
curtain  is  drawn  aside,  and  a  shadow  is  seen  to  pass  the 
window.  In  the  evening,  Hghts  are  noticed  within  ;  and 
sometimes  the  sound  of  an  old  cracked  piano  is  heard. 

Above  the  second  floor,  the  mystery  ceases.  All  the 
upper  rooms,  the  prices  of  which  are  relatively  modesty 
are  occupied  by  tenants  who  may  be  seen  and  heard. 
Clerks  like  Maxence,  shop-girls  from  the  neighbourhood, 
a  few  restaurant-waiters,  and  sometimes  some  poor  devil 
of  an  actor  or  chorus-singer  from  the  Theatre  Dejazet,  the 
Cirque  d'Hiver,  or  the  Theatre  du  Chateau  d'Eau.  One 
of  the  great  advantages  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies,  and 
Madame  Fortin,  the  landlady,  never  failed  to  point  it  out 
to  the  new  tenants,  an  inestimable  advantage,  she  declared, 
v^as  a  back-entrance  on  the  Rue  Beranger.  And  every- 
body knows,"  she  concluded,  "  that  there  is  no  chance  of 
being  caught,  when  one  has  the  good  luck  to  live  in  a 
house  that  has  two  entrances." 

When  Maxence  passed  the  landlady's  room,  a  small, 
dark,  and  dirty  apartment,  M.  and  Madame  Fortin  were 
just  finishing  their  breakfast  with  an  immense  bowl  of  coi  • 
fee  of  doubtful  colour,  of  which  an  enormous  red  cat  was 
taking  a  share. 

"  Ah,  here  is  M.  Favoral  !  "  they  exclaimed. 

There  was  no  mistaking  their  tone.  They  knew  what 
had  happened ;  and  the  newspaper  lying  on  the  table 
showed  how  they  had  learnt  it. 

Some  one  called  to  see  you  last  night,"  said  Madame 
Fortin,  a  big  fat  woman,  whose  nose  was  always  besmeared 
with  snuff,  and  whose  honeyed  voice  made  a  marked  con- 
trast with  her  bird-of-prey  look. 

"  Who  ?  " 

"  A  gentleman  of  about  fifty,  tall  and  thin,  with  a  long 
overcoat,  coming  down  to  his  heels." 

Maxence  started^  He  imagined,  from  this  description, 
that  it  w^as  his  father.  And  yet  it  seemed  impossible,  after 
what  had  happened,  that  he  should  dare  to  show  himself 
on  the  Boulevard  du  Temple,  where  everybody  knew  him, 
within  a  step  of  the  Cafe  Turc,  of  which  he  was  one  of  the 
oldest  customers. 

"  At  what  o'clock  was  he  here  t  "  he  inquired. 


i64 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


"  I  really  can't  tell,"  answered  the  landlady.  "  I  was 
half  asleep  at  the  time ;  but  Fortin  can  tell  us." 

M.  Fortin  who  looked  about  twenty  years  younger  than 
his  wife,  was  one  of  those  small,  fair  men,  with  scanty 
beard,  a  suspicious  glance,  and  uneasy  smile,  such  as 
women  like  Madame  Fortin  know  how  to  find. 

The  confectioner  had  just  put  up  his  shutters,"  he  re- 
plied, "  consequently,  it  must  have  been  about  a  quarter 
past  eleven." 

"  And  what  did  he  say  ?  "  asked  Maxence. 

^'  Nothing,  except  that  he  was  sorry  not  to  find  you  in. 
And,  in  fact,  he  did  look  quite  annoyed.  We  asked  him 
to  leave  his  name  ;  but  he  said  it  wasn't  worth  while,  and 
that  he  would  call  again." 

At  the  glance  which  the  landlady  gave  him  from  the 
corner  of  her  eyes^  Maxence  understood  that  she  enter- 
tained the  same  suspicion  as  himself  respecting  his  visitor. 
And,  as  if  she  had  wished  to  make  it  more  apparent  still, 
she  said  in  her  most  innocent  way  :  "  I  ought,  perhaps,  to 
have  given  him  your  key." 

"  And  why  so,  pray  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  know,  an  idea  of  mine,  that's  all.  Be- 
sides, Mademoiselle  Lucienne  can  probably  tell  you  more 
about  it ;  for  she  was  there  when  the  gentleman  came,  and 
I  even  think  that  they  exchanged  a  few  words  in  the 
court-yard." 

Maxence,  seeing  that  they  were  only  seeking  a  pretext 
to  question  him,  took  his  key,  and  inquired  :  "  Is  Made- 
moiselle Lucienne  at  home  ?  " 

"  Can't  tell.  She  has  been  going  and  coming  all  the 
morning,  and  I  don't  know  whether  she  finally  stayed  in 
or  out.  One  thing  is  sure,  she  waited  for  you  last  night 
until  past  twelve  ;  and  she  didn't  like  it  much  I  can  tell 
you." 

Maxence  started  up  the  steep  stairs  ;  and,  as  he  reached 
the  upper  floors,  a  woman's  voice,  fresh  and  beautifully 
toned,  reached  his  ears  more  and  more  distinctly.  She 
was  singing  a  popular  tune,  one  of  those  song  which  are 
monthly  put  in  circulation  by  the  cafes-concerts. 

"  She  is  in,"  murmured  Maxence,  breathing  more  freely. 

Reaching  the  fourth  floor,  he  stopped  before  the  door 
which  faced  the  stairs,  and  knocked  lightly.    At  once, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


165 


the  voice  which  had  just  commenced  another  verse  stopped 
short,  and  inquired,    Who's  there  ? 
"  I,  Maxence  ! 

^'  At  this  hour ! replied  the  voice  with  an  ironical 
laugh.  "  That's  lucky.  You  probably  forgot  that  we 
were  to  have  gone  to  the  theatre  last  night,  and  started 
for  St.  Germain  at  seven  o'clock  this  morning." 

"  You  do  not  know  then  ?  "  Maxence  began,  as  soon 
as  he  could  put  in  a  word. 

I  know  that  you  did  not  come  home  all  night." 
That's  true.    But  when  I  have  told  you — " 
What  ?  the  lie  you  have  imagined  }    Save  yourself  the 
trouble." 

"  Lucienne,  I  beg  of  you,  open  the  door." 
Impossible,  I  am  dressing.    Go  to  your  own  room 
and  as  soon  as  I  am  dressed,  I  will  join  you."    And,  to 
cut  short  all  explanations  through  the  door,  she  recom 
menced  singing. 

XXVI. 

It  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  landing  that  what 
Madame  Fortin  pompously  called  Maxence's  apartment  " 
was  situated.  It  consisted  of  a  sort  of  ante-chamber 
about  the  size  of  a  pocket-handkerchief,  decorated  by  the 
Fortius  with  the  name  of  dining-room,  a  bedroom,  and  a 
cupboard  styled  a  dressing-room  in  the  lease.  Nothing 
could  be  more  gloomy  than  this  lodging,  in  which  the  rag- 
ged paper  and  soiled  paint  retained  the  traces  of  all  the 
wanderers  who  had  occupied  it  since  the  opening  of  the 
Hotel  des  Folies.  The  dislocated  ceiling  was  scaling  off 
in  large  pieces  ;  the  floor  seemed  affected  with  the  dry-rot ; 
and  the  doors  and  windows  were  so  much  warped  and 
sprung,  that  it  required  an  effort  to  close  them.  The 
furniture  was  on  a  par  with  the  rest. 

"  How  everything  does  wear  out !  "  sighed  Madame 
Fortin.    "  It  isn't  ten  years  since  I  bought  that  furniture.'^ 

In  point  of  fact,  it  was  over  fifteen,  and  even  then  she 
had  bought  it  second-hand,  and  almost  unfit  for  use.  The 
curtains  retained  but  a  vague  shade  of  their  original  col- 
our. The  veneer  was  almost  entirely  off  the  bedstead. 
Not  a  single  lock  was  in  order,  whether  in  the  writing-table 
or  the  chest  of  drawers.    The  rug  had  become  a  nameless 


266 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


rag  ;  and  the  broken  springs  of  the  sofa,  cutting  through 
the  threadbare  stuff  with  which  it  was  covered,  stood  up 
threateningly  like  knife-blades.  The  most  sumptuous  ob> 
ject  was  an  enormous  China  stove,  which  occupied  almost 
one-half  of  the  ante-chamber  dining-room.  It  could  not 
be  used  to  make  a  fire  for  it  had  no  pipe.  Nevertheless, 
Madame  Fortin  refused  obstinately  to  remove  it,  under  tht 
pretext  that  it  gave  such  a  comfortable  appearance  to  the 
apartment.  All  this  elegance  cost  Maxence  forty-five 
francs  a  month,  and  five  francs  for  attendance  ;  the  whole 
payable  in  advance  between  the  ist  and  3rd  of  the  month. 
If,  on  the  4th,  a  tenant  came  in  without  money,  Madame 
Fortin  squarely  refused  to  give  him  his  key,  and  invited 
him  to  seek  shelter  elsewhere. 

"  I  have  been  caught  too  often,'*  she  replied  to  those  who 
tried  to  obtain  twenty-four  hours'  grace  from  her.  "  I 
wouldn^t  trust  my  own  father  till  the  5th,  he  who  was  a  supe- 
rior officer  in  Napoleon's  armies,  and  the  very  soul  of  hon- 
our." 

It  was  chance  alone  which  had  brought  Maxence,  after 
the  Commune,  to  the  Hotel  des  Follies ;  and  he  had  not 
been  there  a  week,  before  he  had  fully  made  up  his  mind 
not  to  wear  out  Madame  Fortin's  furniture  very  long.  Fie 
had  even  already  found  another  and  more  suitable  lodging, 
when,  about  a  year  previously,  a  certain  m.eeting  on  the 
stairs  had  modified  all  his  views,  and  lent  a  charm  to  his 
apartment,  which  lie  had  not  hitherto  suspected.  As  he 
w^as  going  out  one  morning  to  his  office,  he  met  on  the  land- 
ing a  rather  tail  and  very  dark  young  girl,  who  had  just  come 
running  up  the  stairs.  She  passed  before  him  like  a  flash, 
opened  the  opposite  door,  and  disappeared.  But,  rapid  a? 
the  apparition  had  been,  it  had  left  in  Maxence's  mind  ont? 
of  those  impressions  which  are  never  obliterated.  He 
could  not  think  of  anything  during  the  whole  day ;  and  af- 
ter business  hours,  instead  of  going  to  dine  in  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles,  as  usual,  he  sent  a  note  to  his  mother  to  tell  her  not 
to  wait  for  him,  and  bravely  went  home.  But  it  was  in  vain 
that,  during  the  whole  evening,  he  kept  watch  behind  his 
door,  left  slyly  ajar ;  he  did  not  get  a  glimpse  of  his  fair 
neighbour.  Neither  did  she  show  herself  on  the  next  or  the 
three  following  days ;  and  Maxence  was  beginning  to  de- 
spair, when  at  last,  on  the  Sunday,  as  he  was  going  down 
stairs,  he  met  her  again  face  to  face.    He  had  thought  her 


-.A 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


167 


quite  pretty  at  the  first  glance  ;  this  time  he  was  dazzled  to 
that  extent,  that  he  remained  for  over  a  minute,  standing 
Hke  a  statue  against  the  wall.  And  certainly  it  was  not 
her  clothes  that  helped  to  set  off  her  beauty.  She  wore  a  poor 
dress  of  black  merino,  a  narrow  collar,  and  plain  cuffs,  and 
a  bonnet  of  the  utmost  simplicity.  She  had  nevertheless 
an  air  of  incomparable  dignity,  a  grace  that  charmed  and 
yet  inspired  respect,  and  the  carriage  of  a  queen.  This 
was  on  the  30th  of  July.  As  Maxence  was  handing  in  his  key 
before  going  out,  he  said  to  Madame  Fortin  :  "  My  apart 
ment  suits  me  well  enough  :  I  shall  keep  it.  And  here  are 
fifty  francs  for  the  month  of  August.^' 

And,  while  the  landlady  was  making  out  a  receipt,  "You 
never  told  me,"  he  began  with  his  most  indifferent  look, 
"  that  I  had  a  neighbour." 

Madame  Fortin  straightened  herself  up  like  an  old  war- 
horse  at  the  sound  of  the  bugle.  Yes,  yes!"  she  said, 
"Mademoiselle  Lucienne." 

"Lucienne,"  repeated  Maxence  :  "  that's  a  pretty  name." 

"  Have  you  seen  her?  " 

"  I  have  just  seen  her.    She's  rather  good  looking." 

The  worthy  landlady  jumped  on  her  chair.  "Rather 
good  looking  !  "  she  repeated.  "  You  must  be  hard  to 
please,  my  dear  sir;  for  I,  who  am  a  judge,  I  affirm  that  you 
might  search  Paris  all  over  for  four  whole  days  without 
finding  such  a  handsome  girl.  Rather  good  looking  !  A 
wench  who  has  hair  that  comes  down  to  her  knees,  a  daz- 
zling complexion,  great  big  eyes,  and  teeth  whiter  than  that 
cat's.  Believe  me,  my  friend,  you'll  wear  out  more  than 
one  pair  of  boots  running  after  women  before  you  catch 
one  like  her." 

That  was  exactly  Maxence's  opinion  ;  and  yet  with  his 
coldest  look  he  asked  :  "  Has  she  long  been  your  tenant, 
dear  Madame  Fortin  ?  " 

"  A  little  over  a  year.  She  was  here  during  the  siege  ; 
and  just  then,  as  she  could  not  pay  her  rent,  I  was,  of 
course,  going  to  turn  her  out ;  but  she  went  straight  to  the 
commissary  of  police,  who  came  here,  and  forbade  me  to 
turn  out  either  her  or  anybody  else.  As  if  people  were 
not  masters  in  their  own  house  !  " 

"  That  was  perfectly  absurd  1 "  objected  Maxence,  who 
was  determined  to  gain  the  landlady's  good  graces. 

"  Never  heard  of  such  a  thing  !  "  she  went  on.    "  Com- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


pel  you  to  lodge  people  free !  Why  not  feed  them  too ! 
In  short,  she  remained  so  long,  that,  after  the  Commune, 
she  owed  me  a  hundred  and  eighty  francs.  Then  she  said, 
that,  if  I  would  let  her  stay,  she  would  pay  me  each  month 
the  rent  in  advance,  besides  ten  francs  on  the  old  account. 
I  agreed,  and  she  has  already  paid  off  twenty  francs." 
"  Poor  girl !  "  murmured  Maxence. 

But  Madame  Fortin  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  Really," 
she  replied,  I  don't  pity  her  much ;  for,  if  she  only  chose 
in  forty-eight  hours  I  should  be  paid,  and  she  would  have 
something  else  on  her  back  instead  of  that  old  black  rag. 
But  she  has  a  will  of  her  own.  She  hasn't  a  sou  and  yet 
she  won't  listen  to  reason.  What  a  pity.  I  am  killing  my- 
self by  constantly  telling  her :  *  In  these  days,  my  child, 
there  is  but  one  reliable  friend,  who  is  better  than  all  others, 
and  who  must  be  taken  as  he  comes,  without  making  any 
faces  if  he  is  a  little  dirty :  I  mean  money.  One  always 
gets  on  well  when  one  has  money,  and  nobody  will  want 
to  know  where  it  comes  from.  That  is  why  a  woman  who 
possesses  charms  and  does  not'make  use  of  them  is  a  fool. 
Beauty  soon  fades.  Look  at  me.'  But  all  my  preaching 
goes  for  nothing.    I  might  as  well  sing." 

Maxence  was  listening  with  intense  delight.  In  short, 
what  does  she  do  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  That's  more  than  I  know,"  replied  Madame  Fortin. 
"  The  young  lady  has  not  much  to  say.  All  I  know  is,  that 
she  leaves  every  morning  bright  and  early,  and  rarely  gets 
home  before  eleven.  On  Sunday  she  stays  at  home,  read- 
ing ;  and  sometimes,  in  the  evening,  she  goes  out,  always 
alone,  to  some  theatre  or  ball.  Ah !  she  is  an  odd  one,  I 
can  tell  you  !  " 

A  lodger  who  came  in  interrupted  the  landlady ;  and 
Maxence  walked  off,  dreaming  how  he  could  manage  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  his  pretty  and  eccentric  neigh- 
bour. Because  he  had  once  spent  some  hundreds  of  na- 
poleons in  the  company  of  young  ladies  with  yellow  chig- 
nons, he  fancied  himself  a  man  of  experience,  and  had  but 
little  faith  in  the  virtue  of  a  girl  of  twenty,  living  alone  in 
a  hotel,  and  left  sole  mistress  of  her  own  fancy.  He  began 
to  watch  for  every  opportunity  of  meeting  her ;  and,  towards 
the  end  of  month,  he  had  got  so  far  as  to  bow  to  her,  and 
to  enquire  after  her  health.  But,  the  first  time  he  ventured 
to  make  love  to  her,  she  looked  at  him  from  head  to  foot 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


169 


with  so  cold  a  glance,  and  turned  her  back  upon  him  with 
so  much  contempt,  that  he  remained  standing  with  his 
mouth  wide  open.  "  I  am  losing  my  time  like  a  fool,"  he 
thought. 

Great,  then,  was  his  surprise,  when  the  following  week, 
on  a  fine  afternoon,  he  saw  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  leave 
her  room,  no  longer  clad  in  her  eternal  black  dress,  but  wear- 
ing a  brilliant  and  extremely  rich  costume.  With  a  beat- 
ing heart  he  followed  her.  In  front  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies 
stood  a  handsome  carriage  and  horses.  As  soon  as  Made- 
moiselle Lucienne  appeared,  a  footman  respectfully  opened 
the  carriage  door.  She  got  in ;  and  the  horses  started  at 
a  full  trot.  Maxence  watched  the  carriage  disappear  in 
the  distance,  like  a  child  who  sees  the  bird  upon  which  he 
hoped  to  lay  hands  fly  away.  Gone !  "  he  muttered, 
"gone!" 

But  when  he  turned  round  he  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  the  Fortins,  man  and  wife,  who  were  laughing  in  a 
sinister  manner.  "  What  did  I  tell  you  ? "  exclaimed 
Madame  Fortin.  "  There  she  is,  started  at  last.  Whip  up, 
coachman  1    She'll  go  far,  the  child.'' 

The  magnificant  equipage  and  elegant  dress  had  pro- 
duced quite  an  effect  among  the  neighbours.  The  custom- 
ers sitting  in  front  of  the  cafe  were  laughing  among  them- 
selves. The  confectioner  and  his  wdfe  were  casting  indig- 
nant glances  at  the  proprietors  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies. 

"  You  see,  M.  Favoral,"  resumed  Madame  Fortin,  "such 
a  handsome  girl  as  that  was  not  made  for  our  neighbour- 
hood. You  must  make  up  your  mind  to  it  ;  you  won't  see 
much  more  of  her  on  the  Boulevard  du  Temple." 

Without  saying  a  word,  Maxence  returned  to  his  room, 
hot  tears  filling  his  eyes.  He  felt  ashamed  of  his  weak- 
ness ;  for  after  all,  what  was  this  girl  to  him  ?  "  She  is 
gone  !  "  he  repeated  to  himself.  "  Well,  so  much  the  bet- 
ter ! "  But,  despite  all  his  efforts  at  philosophy,  he  felt  an 
immense  sadness  invading  his  heart ;  ill-defined  regrets 
and  spasms  of  anger  agitated  him.  He  was  thinking  what 
a  fool  he  had  been  to  believe  in  the  grand  airs  of  the  young 
lady,  and  that,  if  he  had  had  dresses  and  horses  to  give 
her,  she  might  not  have  received  him  so  harshly.  At  last 
he  made  up  his  mind  to  think  no  more  of  her — one  of 
those  fine  resolutions  which  are  always  taken,  and  never 


170 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 


kept ;  and  in  the  evening  he  left  his  room  to  go  and  dine 
in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles. 

But,  as  was  often  his  custom,  he  stopped  at  the  cafe 
next  door,  and  called  for  a  drink.  He  was  mixing  his 
absinthe  when  he  saw  the  carriage  that  had  carried  off 
Mademoiselle  Lucienne  return  at  a  rapid  gait,  and  stop 
short  in  front  of  the  hotel  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  got  out 
slowly,  crossed  the  side-walk,  and  entered  the  narrow 
passage.     Almost  immediately   the   carriage  drove  off. 

What  does  it  mean  ? thought  Maxence,  who  was  actu- 
ally forgetting  to  drink  his  absinthe.  He  was  losing  him 
self  in  absurd  conjectures,  when,  some  fifteen  minutes 
later,  he  saw  the  young  girl  come  out  again.  She  had 
taken  off  her  elegant  clothes,  and  resumed  her  cheap  black 
dress.  She  had  a  basket  on  her  arm,  and  was  going  to- 
wards the  Rue  Chariot.  Without  further  reflections,  Max- 
ence rose  immediately,  and  started  to  follow  her,  being 
very  careful  that  she  should  not  see  him.  After  walking 
for  five  or  six  minutes,  she  entered  a  shop,  half  eating- 
house  and  half  wine-shop,  in  the  window  of  which  was  a 
large  card  bearing  the  vv'ords  :  "  Ordinary  at  all  hours  at 
forty  centimes.  Hard  boiled  eggs ^  and  salad  of  the  season^ 
Maxence,  having  crept  up  as  close  as  he  could,  saw  Made- 
moiselle Lucienne  take  a  tin  box  out  of  her  basket,  and 
have  what  was  called  an  "ordinary"  poured  into  it:  that 
is,  half  a  pint  of  soup,  a  piece  of  beef  as  large  as  the  fist, 
and  a  few  vegetables.  She  then  had  a  small  bottle  half 
filled  with  wine,  paid,  and  walked  out  with  that  same  dig- 
nified air  which  she  always  wore. 

"  Funny  dinner,"  murmured  Maxence,  for  a  woman 
who  was  reclining  just  now  in  a  handsome  carriage." 

From  that  moment  she  became  the  sole  and  only  object 
of  his  thoughts.  A  passion  which  he  no  longer  attempted 
to  resist,  was  penetrating  like  a  subtle  poison  to  the  inner- 
most depths  of  his  being.  He  thought  himself  happy, 
when,  after  watching  for  hours,  he  caught  a  glimpse  of 
this  singular  creature,  who,  after  that  extraordinary  exppd^ 
tion,  seemed  to  have  resumed  her  usual  mode  of  life. 
Madame  Fortin  was  amazed.  "  She  has  been  too  exact- 
ing," she  said  to  Maxence,  "  and  the  thing  has  fallen 
through."  He  made  no  answer.  He  was  horrified  with 
the  honourable  landlady's  insinuations  ;  and  yet  he  never 
ceased  to  repeat  to  himself  tha^  he  must  be  a  great  simple- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


171 


ton  to  have  faith  for  a  moment  in  the  young  lady's  virtue. 
What  would  he  not  have  given  to  be  able  to  question  her  ? 
But  he  dared  not.  Often  he  would  gather  up  his  courage, 
and  wait  for  her  on  the  stairs  ;  but,  as  soon  as  she  fixed 
her  great  black  eyes  upon  him,  all  the  phrases  he  had  pre- 
pared took  flight,  his  tongue  clove  to  his  mouth,  and  he 
could  barely  succeed  in  stammering  out  a  timid  :  Good 
morning,  mademoiselle." 

He  felt  so  angry  with  himself,  that  he  was  almost  on  the 
point  of  leaving  the  Hotel  des  Folies,  when  one  evening 
Madame  Fortin  said  to  him  :  "  Well,  all  is  made  up  again, 
it  seems.    The  beautiful  carriage  called  for  her  to-day." 

Maxence  could  have  beaten  the  old  woman.  What 
good  would  it  do  you,"  he  asked,  "  if  Lucienne  were  to  go 
to  the  bad  ?  " 

"  It's  always  a  pleasure,"  she  grumbled,  "  to  have  one 
more  woman  to  torment  the  men.  It's  those  girls  who 
avenge  us  poor  honest  women  !  " 

The  sequel  seemed  at  first  to  justify  her  worst  previsions. 
Three  times  during  that  week,  Mademoiselle  Lucienne 
drove  out  in  grand  style ;  but  as  she  always  returned,  and 
always  resumed  her  eternal  black  woollen  dress,  "  I  can't 
make  head  or  tail  of  it,"  Maxence  said  to  himself.  But, 
never  mind,  I'll  clear  the  matter  up  yet." 

He  applied  for  and  obtained  leave  of  absence  from  his 
office ;  and  on  the  very  next  day  he  took  up  a  position  be- 
hind the  window  of  the  adjoining  cafe.  On  the  first  day 
he  lost  his  time;  but  on  the  second  day,  at  about  three 
o'clock,  the  famous  equipage  made  its  appearance ;  and,  a 
few  moments  later,  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  seated  herself 
in  it.  Her  costume  was  even  richer,  and  more  showy  than 
the  first  time.  Maxence  at  once  hastened  after  her  and 
hailed  a  cab.  "You  see  that  carriage,"  he  said  to  the 
coachman.  "  Wherever  it  goes,  you  must  follow  it.  I  will 
give  you  ten  francs  for  yourself-" 

"  All  right,"  replied  the  driver,  whipping  up  his  horse. 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne's  carriage  started  at  full  trot 
down  the  Boulevards  to  the  Madeleine,  then  along  the  Rue 
Royale,  and  through  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  to  the 
Avenue  des  Champs-Elysees,  where  the  horses  were 
brought  to  a  walk.  It  was  the  end  of  September,  and  one 
of  those  lovely  autumnal  days  which  are  a  last  smile  of  the 
blue  sky  and  the  last  caress  of  the  sun.    There  were  races 


172 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


in  the  Bois  de  Boulogue  ;  and  the  equipages  were  five  and 
six  abreast  on  the  avenue.  The  side-walks  were  crowded 
with  idlers.  From  the  inside  of  his  cab,  Maxence  never 
lost  sight  of  Mademoiselle  Lucienne.  She  was  evidently 
creating  a  sensation.  The  men  stopped  to  look  at  her  with 
gaping  admiration  ;  the  women  leaned  out  of  their  car- 
riages to  see  her  better.  Where  can  she  be  going  ? " 
Maxence  wondered.  She  was  going  to  the  Bois ;  and 
soon  her  carriage  joined  the  interminable  line  of  equipages 
which  were  following  the  grand  drive  at  a  walk.  It  became 
easier  now  to  follow  on  foot.  Maxence  told  the  cabman  to 
wait  for  him  at  a  particular  spot  and  took  the  path  that  winds 
round  the  lakes.  He  had  not  gone  fifty  steps,  however, 
before  he  heard  some  one  call  him.  He  turned  round  and 
saw  close  by  M.  Saint-Pavin,  and  M.  Costeclar.  Maxence 
hardly  knew  M.  Saint-Pavin,  whom  he  had  only  seen  two 
or  three  times  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  and  execrated  M. 
Costeclar.  Yet  he  advanced  towards  them.  Mademoi- 
selle Lucienne's  carriage  was  now  following  the  others,  and 
he  was  sure  of  rejoining  it  whenever  he  thought  proper. 

"  It  is  a  miracle  to  see  you  here,  my  dear  Maxence  !  " 
exclaimed  M.  Costeclar,  loud  enough  to  attract  the  atten- 
tion of  several  passers-by.  To  occupy  the  attention  of 
others,  anyhow  and  at  any  cost,  was  M.  Costeclars  lead- 
ing object  in  life.  That  was  evident  from  the  style  of  his 
dress,  the  shape  of  his  hat,  the  bright  stripes  of  his  shirt, 
his  ridiculous  shirt-collar,  his  cuffs,  his  boots,  his  gloves, 
his  cane,  in  fact,  everything  belonging  to  him.  "  If  you 
see  us  on  foot,"  he  added,  "  it  is  because  we  wanted  to 
walk  a  little.  The  doctor's  advice,  my  dear  friend.  My 
carriage  is  yonder,  behind  those  trees.  Do  you  not  recog- 
nise my  dapple-greys  ? "  And  he  extended  his  cane  in 
that  direction,  as  if  he  were  addressing  himself,  not  to 
Maxence  alone,  but  to  every  one  who  was  passing. 

All  right,  all  right !  everybody  knows  you  have  a  car- 
riage,''  interrupted  M.  Saint-Pavin. 

The  editor  of  the  "  Financial  Pilot was  the  living  con- 
trast of  his  companion.  More  slovenly  still  than  M.  Cos- 
teclar was  careful  of  his  dress,  he  exhibited  cynically  a 
loose  cravat  rolled  over  a  dirty  shirt  front,  a  coat  white 
with  dust,  muddy  boots,  though  it  had  not  rained  for  some 
days,  and  large  red  hands  surprisingly  filthy.  He  was  all 
the  more  proud  ;  and  he  wore,  cocked  on  one  side,  a  hat 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


173 


that  had  not  known  a  brush  since  the  day  it  had  left  the 
hatter's. 

"  That  fellow,  Costeclar,"  he  went  on,  "  won't  believe 
that  there  are  in  France  a  number  of  people  who  live  and 
die  without  ever  having  owned  either  a  horse  or  a  broug- 
ham ;  which  is  a  fact,  nevertheless.  Those  highly  respect- 
able fellows  who  are  born  with  an  income  of  fifty  or 
sixty  thousand  francs  in  their  baby  clothes  are  all  alike." 

The  insulting  insinuation  was  evident ;  but  M.  Coste- 
clar  was  not  the  man  to  get  angry  for  such  a  trifle.  You 
are  in  a  bad  temper  to-day,  my  dear  fellow,"  he  said. 

The  editor  of  the  Financial  Pilot "  made  a  threatening 
gesture.  "  Well,  yes,"  he  answered,  "  I  am  in  a  bad  tem- 
per, like  a  man  who  for  ten  years  past  has  been  beating 

the  big  drum  in  front  of  your  d  d  financial  shops,  and 

who  has  not  been  able  to  make  his  expenses.  Yes,  for 
ten  years  I  have  shouted  myself  hoarse  for  your  benefit : 
*  Walk  in,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and,  for  every  franc-piece 
you  deposit  with  us,  we  will  return  you  six.  Walk  in, 
follow  the  crowd,  step  up  to  the  oflice,  now's  the  time.' 
They  go  in.  You  receive  mountains  of  franc-pieces,  you 
never  return  anything,  neither  six  francs  for  one,  nor  even 
a  centime.  The  trick  is  done,  the  public  is  sold.  You 
drive  your  own  carriage ;  you  suspend  diamonds  to  your 
mistresses'  ears  ;  and  I,  the  organizer  of  your  success,  whose 
puffs  open  the  tightest  closed  pockets,  and  draw  the  old 
louis  out  of  the  stockings,  where  they  have  lain  for  years, 
I  am  driven  to  have  my  boots  half-soled.  You  grudge  me 
my  very  existence ;  you  kick  as  soon  as  I  ask  you  to  pay 
for  the  big  drums  bursted  in  your  service." 

He  spoke  so  loud,  that  three  or  four  idlers  had  stopped. 
Without  being  very  shrewd,  Maxence  easily  understood 
that  he  had  happened  to  arrive  in  the  midst  of  an  acri- 
monious discussion  betv/een  these  two  gentlemen.  Closely 
pressed,  and  desirous  of  gaining  time,  M.  Costeclar  had 
evidently  called  to  him  in  the  hopes  of  effecting  a  diver- 
sion. Bowing,  therefore,  politely,  Maxence  said  :  "  Excuse 
me,  gentlemen,  I  fear  I  have  interrupted  you." 

But  M.  Costeclar  detained  him.  "  I  am  not  going  to 
let  you  go,"  he  declared  :  ^'  you  must  come  and  take  a 
glass  of  Madeira  with  us,  down  at  the  Cascade."  And, 
turning  to  the  editor  of  "  The  Pilot,"  "  Come,  now,  shut 
up,"  he  said  :  "  you  shall  have  what  you  want." 


174 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


"  Really  ? 
You  have  my  word." 

I'd  rather  have  two  or  three  lines  in  black  and  white." 
"  I'll  give  them  to  you  to-night." 
All  right,  then  !    Forward  the  big  guns  !    Look  out 
for  next  Sunday's  number  !  " 

Peace  being  made,  the  gentlemen  continued  their  walk 
m  the  most  friendly  manner,  M.  Costeclar  pointing  out  to 
Maxence  all  the  celebrities  who  were  passing  by  in  their 
carriages. 

He  had  just  called  his  attention  to  Madame  and  Made- 
moiselle de  Thaller,  accompanied  by  two  gigantic  foot- 
men, when  suddenly  rising  on  tip-toe,  he  exclaimed  :  "  By 
jove  !  what  a  handsome  woman!  " 

Without  too  much  affectation,  Maxence  fell  back  a  step 
or  two.  He  felt  himself  blushing  to  his  very  ears,  and 
trembled  lest  his  sudden  en>otion  were  noticed,  and  he 
were  questioned  ;  for  it  was  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  who 
thus  excited  M.  Costeclar's  noisy  enthusiasm.  She  had 
already  been  once  round  the  lake  ;  and  she  was  continuing 
her  circular  drive. 

"  Really,"  approved  the  editor  of  "  The  Financial  Pilot," 
she  is  somewhat  better  than  the  rest  of  those  ladies  we 
have  just  seen  pass  by." 

M.  Costeclar  was  on  the  point  of  pulling  out  what  little 
hair  he  had  left.  "  And  I  don't  know  her  !  "  he  went  on. 
"  A  lovely  woman  rides  in  the  Bois,  and  I  dont  know  who 
she  is  !  It  is  ridiculous  and  prodigious  !  Who  can  inform 
us?" 

A  little  way  off  stood  a  group  of  gentlemen,  who  had 
also  just  left  their  carriages,  and  were  looking  on  this 
interminable  procession  of  equipages  and  this  amazing  dis- 
play of  toilettes. 

"  They  are  friends  of  mine,"  said  M.  Costeclar  :  "  let  us 
join  them." 

They  did  so  ;  and,  after  the  usual  greetings,  "  Who  is 
that  ?  "  inquired  M.  Costeclar.  "  That  dark  person  whose 
carriage  follows  Madame  de  Thaller's  ?  " 

An  old  young  man,  with  scanty  hair,  dyed  beard,  and  a 
most  impudent  smile,  answered  him  :  "  That's  just  what 
we  are  trying  to  find  out.  None  of  us  have  ever  seen  her 
before." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


175 


"  I  must  and  shall  find  out,"  interrupted  M.  Costeclar. 
"  I  have  a  very  intelligent  servant — " 

Already  he  was  starting  in  the  direction  of  the  spot 
where  his  carriage  was  waiting  for  him.  The  old  beau 
stopped  him.  Don't  bother  yourself,  my  dear  friend," 
he  said.  I  also  have  a  servant  who  is  no  fool ;  and  he 
has  had  my  orders  for  more  than  fifteen  minutes,"  The 
others  burst  out  laughing. 

Distanced,  Costeclar!"  exclaimed  M.  Saint-Pavin, 
who,  notwithstanding  his  slovenly  dress  and  cynical  man- 
ners, seemed  perfectly  well  received.  No  one  was  now 
paying  any  attention  to  Maxence ;  and  he  slipped  off  with- 
out the  slightest  care  as  to  what  M.  Costeclar  might  think. 
Reaching  the  spot  where  he  had  left  his  cab,  he  jumped 
in. 

"Where  to  now,  sir?"  inquired  the  driver. 
We'll  wait  for  that  same  carriage,"  answered  Maxence ; 
"  and  follow  it  on  the  return  journey." 

But  he  learned  nothing  further.  Mademoiselle  Lu- 
cienne  drove  straight  to  the  Boulevard  du  Temple,  and,  as 
before,  immediately  resumed  her  eternal  black  dress  ;  and 
Maxence  saw  her  go  to  the  little  restaurant  for  her  modest 
dinner.  But  he  saw  something  else  too.  Almost  on  the 
heels  of  the  girl,  a  servant  in  livery  entered  the  hotel,  and 
only  went  off  after  remaining  a  full  quarter  of  an  hour  in 
busy  conference  with  Madame  Fortin. 

"  It  is  all  over,"  thought  the  poor  fellow.  "  Lucienne 
will  not  be  my  neighbour  much  longer."  He  was  mis- 
taken. A  month  went  by  without  bringing  about  any 
change.  As  in  the  past,  she  went  out  early,  came  home 
late,  and  on  Sundays  remained  alone  all  day  in  her  room. 
Once  or  twice  a  week  when  the  weather  was  fine,  the 
carriage  came  for  her  at  about  three  o'clock,  and  brought 
her  home  at  night-fall.  Maxence  had  exhausted  all  conject- 
ures, when  one  evening,  it  was  the  31st  of  October,  as  he  was 
coming  in  to  go  to  bed,  he  heard  someone  talking  very  loud 
in  the  landlady's  room.  Prompted  by  an  instinctive  curi- 
osity, he  approached  on  tip-toe,  so  as  to  see  and  hear  every- 
thing. The  Fortius  and  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  were 
having  a  great  discussion. 

"  That's  all  nonsense,"  shrieked  the  worthy  landlady  • 
"  and  I  mean  to  be  paid." 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  was  quite  calm.    "Well,"  she 


176 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


replied  :  "  don't  I  pay  you  ?  Here  are  forty  francs,  thirty 
in  advance  for  my  room,  and  ten  off  the  old  account.'* 

"  I  don't  want  your  ten  francs." 

"  What  do  you  want,  then  ?  " 

"  All  the  hundred  and  fifty  francs  which  you  owe  me 
still." 

The  young  girl  shrugged  her  shoulders.    "  You  forget 
our  agreement,"  she  exclaimed. 
"  Our  agreement  ? " 

"  Yes.  After  the  Commune,  it  was  understood  that  I 
should  give  you  ten  francs  a  month  off  the  old  account. 
So  long  as  I  give  them  to  you,  you  have  nothing  to  com- 
plain of." 

Crimson  with  rage,  Madame  Fortin  had  risen  from  her 
seat.  Formerly,"  she  shrieked,  "  I  thought  I  had  to 
deal  with  a  poor  work-girl,  a  virtuous  woman." 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  took  no  notice  of  the  insult. 
"  I  have  not  the  amount  you  demand,"  she  said  coldly. 

"  Well,  then,"  vociferated  the  other,  "  you  must  go  and 
ask  it  of  those  who  pay  for  your  carriages  and  your 
dresses,  you  hussy  !  " 

Still  perfectly  impassible,  the  young  girl,  instead  of  an- 
swering, stretched  her  hand  towards  her  key ;  but  M. 
Fortin  stopped  her  arm.  No,  no  !  "  he  said  with  a  gig- 
gle. People  who  don't  pay  their  hotel  bills  sleep  out, 
my  darling." 

Maxence,  that  very  morning,  had  received  his  month's 
pay,  and  he  felt,  as  it  were,  his  two  hundred  francs  burning 
his  pockets.  Yielding  to  a  sudden  inspiration,  he  threw  the 
door  open.  "  Here  is  your  money,  wretches  ! "  he  ex- 
claimed, and,  throwing  down  upon  the  table  one  hundred 
and  fifty  francs,  he  withdrew  at  once. 


XXVII. 

At  that  time,  Maxence  had  not  spoken  to  Lucienne  for 
nearly  a  month.  He  tried  to  persuade  himself  that  she  de- 
spised him  because  he  v/as  poor.  He  kept  watching  for 
her,  for  he  could  not  help  it ;  but  as  much  as  possible  he 
avoided  her.  I  shall  be  miserable,"  he  thought,  "  the 
night  she  does  not  come  home ;  and  yet  it  would  be  the 
very  best  thing  that  could  happen  for  me."  Nevertheless, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


177 


he  spent  all  his  time  trying  to  find  some  explanations 
for  the  conduct  of  this  strange  girl,  who,  beneath  her 
woollen  dress,  had  the  haughty  manners  of  a  great  lady. 
Then  he  delighted  to  imagine  between  her  and  himself 
some  of  those  subjects  of  confidence,  some  of  those 
facilities,  which  chance  never  fails  to  supply  to  attentive 
passion,  or  some  event  which  would  enable  him  to  emerge 
from  his  obscurity,  and  to  acquire  some  rights  by  virtue  of 
some  great  service  rendered.  But  never  had  he  ventured 
to  hope  for  an  occasion  as  propitious  as  the  one  he  had 
just  seized.  And  yet,  after  he  had  returned  to  his  room, 
he  hardly  dared  to  congratulate  himself  upon  the  prompti- 
tude of  his  decision.  He  knew  too  well  Mademoiselle 
Lucienne's  excessive  pride  and  sensitive  nature.  "  I 
should  not  be  surprised  if  she  were  angry  with  me  for 
what  IVe  done,"  he  thought.  The  evening  being  quite 
chilly,  he  had  lighted  a  few  sticks ;  and,  sitting  by  the  fire- 
side, he  was  waiting,  his  mind  filled  with  vague  hopes.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  his  neighbour  could  not  help  coming 
to  thank  him  ;  and  he  was  listening  intently  to  all  the 
noises  of  the  house,  starting  at  the  sound  of  footsteps  on 
the  stairs,  and  at  the  slamming  of  doors.  Ten  times,  at 
least,  he  went  out  on  tip-toe  to  lean  out  of  the  window  on 
the  landing,  to  make  sure  that  there  was  no  light  in  Made- 
moiselle Lucienne's  room.  At  eleven  o'clock  she  had  not 
yet  come  home  ;  and  he  was  deliberating  whether  he  should 
not  start  out  in  quest  of  information,  when  there  was  a 
knock  at  the  door.  "  Come  in  1 ''  he  cried,  in  a  voice 
choking  wich  emotion. 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  entered.  She  was  somewhat 
paler  than  usual,  but  calm  and  perfectly  self-possessed. 
Having  bowed  without  the  slightest  shade  of  embarrass- 
ment, she  laid  upon  the  mantle-piece  the  hundred  and  fifty 
francs  which  Maxence  had  thrown  to  the  Fortms  ;  and,  in 
her  most  natural  tone,  said :  Here  is  your  money,  sir,  I 
am  more  grateful  than  I  can  express  for  your  prompt  kind- 
ness in  lending  them  to  me ;  but  I  did  not  need  them." 

Maxence  had  risen  from  his  seat,  and  was  making 
every  effort  to  control  his  feehngs.  "  Still,"  he  began, 
"  after  what  I  heard — " 

Yes,"  she  interrupted,  "  Madame  Fortin  and  her  hus- 
band were  trying  to  frighten  me.    But  they  were  wasting 
their  time.    When  after  the  Commune,  I  settled  with  them 
12 


178 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MOAEV, 


the  manner  in  which  I  would  discharge  my  debt  towards 
them,  having  a  just  estimate  of  their  worth,  I  made  them 
write  out  and  sign  our  agreement.  Being  in  the  right,  I 
could  resist  them,  and  was  resisting  them  when  you  threw 
them  those  hundred  and  fifty  francs.  Having  laid  hands 
upon  them,  they  said  they  meant  to  keep  them.  That's 
what  I  could  not  allow.  Not  being  able  to  recover  them 
by  main  force,  I  went  at  once  to  the  commissary  of  police. 
He  was  luckily  at  his  office.  He  is  an  honest  man,  who 
already,  once  before,  helped  me  out  of  a  scrape.  He  list- 
ened to  me  kindly,  and  was  moved  by  my  explanations. 
Notwithstanding  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  he  put  on  his 
overcoat,  and  came  with  me  to  see  our  landlady.  After 
compelling  her  to  return  me  your  money,  he  signified  to 
her  to  strictly  observe  our  agreement,  under  penalty  of 
incurring  his  utmost  severity." 

Maxence  was  wonderstruck.  "  How  could  you  dare  ?  "  ■ 
he  asked. 

"  Was  I  not  in  the  right }  " 
Oh,  a  thousand  times  yes  !  Still — " 

"  What  ?  Should  my  right  be  less  respected  because  I 
am  but  a  woman  ?  And  because  I  have  no  one  to  protect 
me,  am  I  outside  the  law,  and  condemned  in  advance  to 
suffer  the  iniquitous  fancies  of  every  scoundrel  ?  No, 
thank  heaven  !  Henceforth  I  shall  feel  easy.  People  like 
the  Fortius,  who  live  of  I  know  not  what  shameful  traffic, 
have  too  much  to  fear  from  the  police  to  dare  to  molest 
me  further."  The  resentment  of  the  insult  could  be  read 
in  her  great  black  eyes  ;  and  a  bitter  disgust  contracted 
her  lips.  "  Besides,"  she  added,  ^'  the  commissary  had  no 
need  ©f  my  explanations  to  undertand  what  abject  inspira- 
tions the  Fortius  were  following.  The  wretches  had 
already  received  the  wages  of  their  infamy.  In  refusing 
me  my  key,  in  casting  me  out  on  the  street  at  ten  o'clock 
at  night,  they  hoped  to  drive  me  to  seek  the  assistance  of 
the  base  scoundrel  who  paid  their  odious  treason.  And 
we  know  the  price  which  men  demand  for  the  slightest 
service  they  render  to  a  woman." 

Maxence  turned  pale.  The  idea  flashed  upon  his  mind 
that  it  was  to  him,  perhaps,  that  these  last  words  were  ad- 
dressed. "  Ah,  I  swear  to  you  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  it  was 
without  afterthought  that  I  tried  to  help  you.  You 
do  not  even  owe  me  any  thanks." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


79 


**  I  do  not  thank  you  any  the  less,  though,"  she  said 
gently,    and  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart — " 
"  It  was  so  little  !  " 

"  The  intention  alone  makes  the  value  of  a  service, 
neighbour.  And,  besides,  do  not  say  that  a  hundred  and 
fifty  francs  are  nothing  to  you ;  perhaps  you  do  not  earn 
much  more  each  month." 

I  confess  it,"  he  said,  blushing  a  little. 

You  see,  then  ?  No,  it  was  not  to  you  that  my  words 
were  addressed,  but  to  the  man  who  has  paid  the  Fortius. 
He  was  waiting  on  the  Boulevard,  the  result  of  the  ma- 
noeuvre, which,  he  thought,  was  about  to  place  me  at  his 
mercy.  He  came  quickly  to  me  when  I  went  out,  and 
followed  me  all  the  way  to  the  office  of  the  commissary  of 
police,  as  he  has  followed  me  everywhere  for  the  past 
month,  with  his  sickening  gallantries  and  his  degrading 
propositions." 

"  Ah,  if  I  had  known ! "  exclaimed  Maxence,  his 
eyes  flashing  with  anger.    "  If  you  had  only  told  me  !  " 

She  smiled  at  his  vehemence.  What  would  you  have 
done  ?  "  she  asked.  "  You  cannot  impart  intelligence  to  a 
fool,  heart  to  a  coward,  or  delicacy  of  feeling  to  a  boor." 

"  I  could  have  chastised  the  vile  insulter." 

She  made  a  superb  gesture  of  indifference.  "  Bah  !  " 
she  interrupted.  What  are  insults  to  me  t  I  am  so 
accustomed  to  them,  that  they  no  longer  have  any  effect 
upon  me.  I  am  eighteen  :  I  have  neither  family,  relatives, 
friends,  nor  any  one  in  the  world  who  even  knows  of  my 
existence  :  and  I  live  by  my  labour.  Can  you  not  see 
what  must  be  the  humiliations  of  each  day  1  Since  I  was 
eight  years  old,  I  have  been  earning  the  bread  I  eat,  the 
dress  I  wear,  and  the  rent  of  the  den  in  which  I  sleep. 
Can  you  understand  what  I  have  endured,  to  what  igno- 
minies I  have  been  exposed,  what  traps  have  been  set  for 
me,  and  how  it  has  happened  to  me  sometimes  to  owe  my 
safety  to  mere  physical  strength  t  And  yet  I  do  not  com- 
plain, since  through  it  all  I  have  been  able  to  retain  my 
self-respect,  and  to  remain  virtuous  in  spite  of  every  one." 
She  laughed  a  laugh  that  had  something  wild  in  it.  And 
as  Maxence  looked  at  her  with  immense  surprise,  she 
resumed  :  "  That  seems  strange  to  you,  doesn't  it.  A  girl 
of  eighteen,  without  a  sou,  free  as  air,  very  pretty,  and  yet 
virtuous  in  the  midst  of  Paris.    Probably  you  don't  believe 


i8o 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


it,  or,  if  you  do,  you  just  wonder  '  What  on  earth  does  she 
do  it  for  ? '  And  really  you  are  right ;  for,  after  all,  who 
cares,  and  who  thinks  any  the  more  of  me,  if  I  work  sixteen 
hours  a  day  to  remain  virtuous  ?  But  it's  a  fancy  of  my 
own  ;  and  don't  imagine  for  a  moment  that  I  am  deterred 
by  any  scruples,  or  by  timidity  or  ignorance.  No,  no  !  I 
believe  in  nothing,  I  fear  nothing  ;  and  I  know  as  much 
as  the  oldest  libertines,  the  most  vicious,  and  the  most 
depraved.  And  I  don't  say  that  I  have  not  been  tempted 
sometimes,  when,  coming  home  from  work,  I've  seen  some 
young  girl,  coming  out  of  a  restaurant,  splendidly  dressed, 
on  her  lover's  arm,  and  getting  into  her  cai'aiiage  to  go  to 
the  theatre.  There  have  been  moments  when  I  was  cold 
and  hungry,  and  when,  not  knowing  where  to  sleep,  I 
wandered  all  night  through  the  streets  like  a  lost  dog ! 
There  have  been  hours  when  I  felt  sick  of  all  this  misery, 
and  when  I  said  to  myself,  that,  since  it  was  my  fate  to 
end  in  the  hospital,  I  might  as  well  make  the  trip  gaily. 
But  what !  I  should  have  had  to  traffic  my  person,  to  sell 
myself  !  "  She  shuddered,  and  in  a  hoarse  voice,  added  : 
I  would  rather  die.^' 

It  was  difficult  to  reconcile  words  such  as  these  with 
certain  circumstances  of  Mademoiselle  Lucienne's  exist- 
ence :  her  rides  round  the  lake,  for  instance,  in  that  car- 
riage that  came  for  her  two  or  three  times  a  week  ;  her 
ever  renewed  costumes,  each  time  more  eccentric  and 
more  showy.  But  Maxence  was  not  thinking  of  that. 
What  she  told  him  he  accepted  as  absolutely  true  and  in- 
disputable. And  he  felt  penetrated  with  an  almost  relig- 
ious admiration  for  this  young  and  beautiful  girl,  possessed 
of  so  much  vivid  energy,  who  alone,  through  the  hazards, 
the  perils,  and  the  temptations  of  Paris,  had  succeeded  in 
protecting  and  defending  herself.       And  yet,"  he  said, 

without  suspecting  it,  3^ou  had  a  friend  near  you." 

She  started,  and  a  pale  smile  flitted  across  her  lips. 
She  knew  well  enough  what  friendship  means  between  a 
youth  of  twenty-five  and  a  girl  of  eighteen.  A  friend  1  " 
she  murmured. 

Maxence  guessed  her  thought ;  and,  in  all  the  sincerity 
of  his  soul,  he  repeated  :  "  Yes,  a  friend,  a  comrade,  a 
brother."  And  thinking  to  touch  her,  and  gain  her  confix 
dence,  he  added  :  "  I  can  understand  you,  for  I,  too,  have 
been  very  unhappy." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


i8i 


But  he  was  singularly  mistaken.  She  looked  at  him 
with  an  astonished  air,  and  slowly  said  :  "  You  unhappy  ! 
you  who  have  a  family,  relations,  a  mother  who  adores 
you,  a  sister.'' 

Had  he  been  less  excited,  Maxence  might  have  w^on* 
dered  how  she  knew  this,  and  would  have  concluded  that 
she  must  feel  some  interest  in  him,  since  she  had  doubt- 
less taken  the  trouble  of  getting  information. 

"  Besides,  you  are  a  man,''  she  went  on  ;  "  and  I  do  not 
understand  how  a  man  can  complain.  Have  you  not  the 
freedom,  the  strength,  and  the  right  to  undertake  and  to 
dare  anything?  Is  not  the  world  open  to  your  activity 
and  to  your  ambition  1  Woman  submits  to  her  fate  :  man 
makes  his. 

This  was  upsetting  the  dearest  pretensions  of  Maxence, 
who  seriously  thought  that  he  had  exhausted  the  rigours  of 
adversity.    "  There  are  circmstances,"  he  began. 

But  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  gently,  and,  interrupt- 
ing him,  exclaimed  :  Do  not  insist,  or  else  I  shall  think 
that  you  lack  energy.  Why  do  you  speak  of  circum- 
stances ?  There  are  none  so  adverse  but  that  can  be  over- 
come. What  would  you  like,  then  ?  To  be  born  with  a 
hundred  thousand  francs  a  year,  and  have  nothing  to  do 
but  to  live  according  to  your  every  day  whim,  idle,  satiated, 
a  burden  to  yourself,  useless,  or  offensive  to  others  Ah  1 
if  I  were  a  man  I  would  dream  of  another  fate.  I  should 
like  to  start  from  the  Foundling  Hospital  without  a  name, 
and  by  my  will,  my  intelligence,  my  daring,  and  my 
labour,  make  something  and  somebody  of  myself.  I 
would  start  from  nothing  and  become  everything ! " 
With  flashing  eyes  and  quivering  nostrils,  she  drew  her- 
self up  proudly.  But  almost  at  once  dropping  her  head, 
she  added  :  "  The  misfortune  is,  that  I  am  but  a  woman ; 
and  you  who  complain,  if  you  only  knew — " 

She  sat  down,  and  with  her  elbow  on  the  little  table, 
her  head  resting  upon  her  hand,  she  remained  lost  in  med- 
itation, her  eyes  fixed,  as  if  following  through  space  all 
the  phases  of  the  eighteen  years  of  her  life.  There  is  no 
energy  but  unbends  at  some  given  moment,  no  will  but 
has  its  hour  of  weakness  ;  and,  strong  and  energetic  as 
was  Mademoiselle  Lucienne,  she  had  been  deeply  touched 
by  what  Maxence  had  done.  Had  she,  then,  at  last  found 
upon  her  path  the  companion  of  whom  she  had  often 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


dreamed  in  the  despainng  hours  of  solitude  and  wretched- 
ness ?  After  a  few  moments  she  raised  her  head,  and,  look- 
ing into  Maxence's  eyes  with  agaze  that  electrified  him,  she 
said  in  a  tone  of  indifference  somewhat  forced  :  "  Doubt- 
less, you  think  me  a  strange  neighbour.  Well,  as  between 
neighbours,  it  is  well  to  know  each  other,  before  you  judge 
me,  listen." 

The  recommendation  was  useless.  Maxence  was  listen- 
ing with  all  his  attention. 

"I  was  brought  up,"  she  began,  "in  a  village  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Paris,  at  Louveciennes.  My  mother  had 
put  me  out  to  nurse  with  some  honest  gardeners,  poor  and 
burdened  with  a  large  family.  After  two  months,  hearing 
nothing  of  my  mother,  they  wrote  to  her :  she  did  not  re- 
ply. They  then  went  to  Paris,  and  called  at  the  address  she 
had  given  them.  She  had  just  moved  out ;  and  no  one 
knew  what  had  become  of  her.  They  could  no  longer, 
therefore,  expect  a  single  sou  for  the  cares  they  would  be- 
stow upon  me.  They  kept  me,  nevertheless,  thinking  that 
one  child  the  more  would  not  make  much  difference.  I 
know  nothing  of  my  parents,  therefore,  except  what  I 
heard  through  these  kind  gardeners  ;  and,  as  I  was  still 
quite  young  when  I  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  them,  I 
have  but  a  very  vague  remembrance  of  what  they  told  me. 
I  remember  very  well,  however,  that  according  to  their 
statements,  my  mother  was  a  young  workwoman  of  rare 
beauty,  and  that  most  probably  she  was  not  my  father's 
wife.  If  I  was  ever  told  my  mother's  or  my  father's  name, 
if  I  ever  knew  it,  I  have  quite  forgotten  it.  I  myself  had 
no  name.  My  adopted  parents  called  me  the  Parisian. 
I  was  happy,  nevertheless,  with  these  kind  people,  and 
treated  exactly  like  their  own  children.  In  winter  they 
sent  me  to  school ;  in  summer  I  helped  to  weed  the  gar- 
den. I  drove  a  sheep  or  two  aiong  the  road,  or  else  I 
went  to  gather  violets  and  strawberries  in  the  woods. 
This  was  the  happiest,  or  rather  the  only  happy  time  of 
my  life,  towards  which  my  thoughts  may  turn  when  I  feel 
despair  and  discouragement  getting  the  better  of  me. 
Alas  !  I  was  but  eight,  when,  within  the  same  week,  the 
gardener  and  his  wife  were  both  carried  off  by  the  same 
disease — inflammation  of  the  lungs.  On  a  freezing  Decem- 
ber morning,  in  that  house  upon  which  the  hand  of  death 
had  just  fallen,  we  found  ourselves,  six  children,  the  eldest 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


183 


of  whom  was  not  eleven,  crying  with  grief,  fright,  cold, 
and  hunger.  Neither  the  gardener  nor  his  wife  had  any 
relatives  ;  and  they  left  nothing  but  a  few  wretched  pieces 
of  furniture,  the  sale  of  which  barely  sufficed  to  pay  the 
expenses  of  their  funeral.  The  two  younger  children  were 
sent  to  the  Foundling  Hospital  ;  tlie  others  were  taken 
charge  of  by  the  neighbours.  It  was  a  laundress  of  Marly 
who  took  me.  I  was  quite  tall  and  strong  for  my  age. 
She  made  an  apprentice  of  me.  She  was  not  unkind  b} 
nature,  but  she  was  violent  and  brutal  in  the  extreme.  She 
compelled  me  to  do  an  excessive  amount  of  work,  and  often 
of  a  kind  above  my  strength.  Fifty  times  a  day  I  had  to 
go  from  the  river  to  the  house,  carrying  on  my  shoulders 
enormous  bundles  of  wet  napkins  or  sheets,  wring  them, 
spread  them  out,  and  then  run  to  Rueil  to  get  the  soiled 
clothes  from  the  customers.  I  did  not  complain,  I  was 
already  too  proud  too  complain  ;  but,  if  I  was  ordered  to 
do  something  that  seemed  to  me  too  unjust,  I  refused  ob- 
stinately to  obey,  and  then  I  was  unmercifully  beaten.  In 
spite  of  all,  I  might,  perhaps,  have  become  attached  to  the 
woman  had  she  not  had  the  disgusting  habit  of  drinking. 
Every  week  regularly,  on  the  day  when  she  took  the 
clothes  to  Paris  (it  was  on  Wednesdays),  she  came  home 
drunk.  And  then,  according  as,  with  the  fumes  of  the 
wine,  anger  or  gaiety  rose  to  her  brain,  there  were  atro- 
cious scenes  or  obscene  jests.  When  she  was  in  that  con- 
rtition,  she  inspired  me  with  horror.  And  one  Wednesday, 
as  I  showed  my  feelings  too  plainly,  she  struck  me  so 
hard  that  she  broke  my  arm.  I  had  been  with  her  for 
twenty  months.  The  injury  she  had  done  me  sobered  her 
at  once.  She  became  frightened,  smothered  me  with  ca- 
resses, and  begged  me  to  say  nothing  to  any  one.  I 
promised,  and  kept  my  word  faithfully.  But  a  physician 
had  to  be  called  in.  There  had  been  witnesses  who  spoke. 
The  story  spread  along  the  river  as  far  as  Bougival  and 
Rueil.  And  one  morning  a  corporal  of  gendarmes  called 
at  the  house  ;  and  I  don't  exactly  know  what  would  have 
happened  if  I  had  not  obstinately  maintained  that  I  had 
broken  my  arm  in  falling  down  stairs.'' 

What  surprised  Maxence  most  was  Mademoiselle  Lu- 
cienne's  simple  and  natural  tone.  No  emphasis,  scarcely 
an  appearance  of  emotion.  One  might  have  thought  U 
was  somebody  else's  life  that  she  was  narrating. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


Meantime  she  continued  :  "  Thanks  to  my  obstinate 
denials  the  woman  was  not  disturbed.  But  the  truth  was 
known  ;  and  her  reputation,  which  was  not  good  before, 
became  altogether  bad.  I  was  an  object  of  interest. 
The  very  same  people  who  had  seen  me  twenty  times 
staggering  painfully  under  a  load  of  wet  clothes,  which  was 
terrible,  began  to  pity  me  prodigiously  because  I  had  had 
an  arm  broken,  which  was  nothing.  At  last  a  number  of  our 
customers  arranged  to  remove  me  from  a  house  in  which, 
they  said,  I  must  end  by  perishing  under  bad  treatment. 
And  after  many  inquiries,  they  discovered  at  last,  at  La 
Jonchere,  an  old  Jewess  lady,  very  rich,  and  a  widow  witb 
out  children,  who  consented  to  take  charge  of  me.  I  lies- 
itated  at  first  to  accept  these  offers  ;  but  noticing  that  the 
laundress,  since  she  had  hurt  me,  had  conceived  a  still 
greater  aversion  for  me,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  leave  her. 
It  was  on  the  day  when  I  was  introduced  to  my  new  mis- 
tress that  I  first  discovered  I  had  no  name.  After  exam- 
ining me  at  length,  turning  me  round  and  round,  making 
me  walk  and  sit  down,  ^  Now,'  she  inquired,  '  what  is  your 
name  t '  I  stared  at  her  in  surprise  ;  for  indeed  I  was  then 
like  a  savage,  not  having  the  slightest  notion  of  the  things 
of  life.  *  My  name  is  the  Parisian,'  I  replied.  She  burst 
out  laughing,  as  also  another  old  lady,  a  friend  of  hers, 
who  assisted  at  my  presentation  ;  and  I  remember  that 
my  little  pride  was  quite  offended  at  their  hilarity.  I 
thought  they  were  laughing  at  me.  ^  That's  not  a  name,' 
they  said  at  last.  ^  That's  a  nickname.'  '  I  have  no  other.' 
They  seemed  dumbfounded,  repeating  over  and  over 
again  that  such  a  thing  was  unheard-of  ;  and  on  the  spot 
they  began  to  choose  a  name  for  me.  *  Where  were  you 
born  ?  '  inquired  my  new  mistress.  *  At  Louveciennes.' 
*  Very  well,'  said  the  other,  ^  let  us  call  her  Louvecienne.' 
A  long  discussion  followed,  which  irritated  me  so  much 
that  I  felt  like  running  aw^ay  ;  but  ultimately  it  was  agreed 
that  I  should  be  called,  not  Louvecienne,  but  Lucienne  ; 
and  Locienne  I  have  remained.  There  was  nothing  said 
about  baptism,  since  my  new  mistress  was  a  Jewess.  She 
was  an  excellent  woman,  although  the  grief  she  had  felt  at 
the  loss  of  her  husband  had  somewhat  deranged  her  fac- 
ulties. As  soon  as  it  w^as  decided  that  I  was  to  remain, 
she  desired  to  inspect  my  trousseau.  I  had  none  to  show 
her,  possessing  nothing  in  the  world  but  the  rags  on  my 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


back.  As  long  as  I  had  remained  with  the  laundress,  I  had 
finished  wearing  out  her  old  dresses  ;  and  I  had  never 
worn  any  other  under-clothing  save  that  which  I  chose  to 
borrow  from  the  customers,  an  economical  system  adopted 
by  many  laundresses.  Dismayed  at  my  state  of  destitu- 
tion, my  new  mistress  sent  for  a  needlewoman,  and  at 
once  ordered  her  to  make  some  clothes  for  me.  Since  the 
death  of  the  poor  gardeners,  this  was  the  first  time  that 
any  one  had  showed  me  any  kindness,  except  to  exact 
some  service  of  me.  I  was  moved  to  tears  ;  and  in  the 
excess  of  my  gratitude  I  would  gladly  have  died  for  that 
kind  old  lady.  This  feeling  gave  me  the  courage  and  the 
constancy  required  to  bear  with  her  whimsical  nature. 
She  had  singular  manias,  disconcerting  fancies,  ridiculous 
and  often  exorbitant  exactions.  I  lent  myself  to  it  all  as 
best  I  could.  As  she  already  had  two  servants,  a  cook 
and  a  chambermaid,  I  had  myself  no  special  duties  in  the 
house.  I  accompanied  her  when  she  went  out  for  a  drive. 
I  helped  to  wait  on  her  at  table,  and  to  dress  her.  I 
picked  up  her  handkerchief  when  she  dropped  it;  and 
above  all,  I  looked  after  her  snuff-box,  which  she  was  con- 
tinually mislaying.  She  was  pleased  with  my  docility, 
took  much  interest  in  me,  and  that  I  might  read  to  her 
she  made  me  learn  to  read,  for  I  hardly  knew  my  letters. 
And  the  old  man  whom  she  gave  me  for  a  teacher,  finding 
me  intelligent,  taught  me  all  he  knew,  I  imagine,  of 
French,  geography,  and  history.  The  chambermaid,  on 
the  other  hand,  was  commissioned  to  teach  me  to  sew,  to 
embroider,  and  to  execute  all  kinds  of  fancy-work  ;  and 
she  took  the  more  interest  in  her  lessons,  that  little  by 
little  she  shifted  upon  me  the  most  tedious  part  of  her 
work.  I  should  have  been  happy  in  that  pretty  house  at  La 
Jonchere  if  I  had  only  had  some  society  better  suited  to 
my  age  than  the  old  women  with  whom  I  was  compelled 
to  live,  and  who  scolded  me  for  a  loud  word  or  a  some- 
what abrupt  gesture.  What  would  I  not  have  given  to 
have  been  allowed  to  play  with  the  young  girls  whom  I 
saw  on  Sundays  passing  in  crowds  along  the  road ! 

"  As  time  went  on,  my  old  mistress  became  more  and 
more  attached  to  me,  and  endeavoured  in  every  to  give 
me  proofs  of  her  affection.  I  sat  at  table  with  her,  instead 
of  waiting  on  her  as  at  first.  She  gave  me  better  clothes, 
so  that  she  could  take  me  out  with  her  and  introduce  me 


i86 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


anywhere.  She  went  about  repeating  everywhere  that  she 
was  as  fond  of  me  as  of  a  daughter ;  that  she  intended  to 
set  me  up  in  hfe  ;  and  that  certainly  she  would  leave  a 
part  of  her  fortune  to  me.  Alas  !  She  said  it  too  loud,  for 
my  misfortune — so  loud,  that  the  news  at  last  reached  the 
ears  of  some  nephews  of  hers  in  Paris,  who  came  now  and 
then  to  La  Jonchere.  They  had  never  paid  much  attention 
to  me  up  to  this  time.  These  speeches  opened  their  eyes, 
they  noticed  what  progress  I  had  made  in  the  heart  of 
their  relative,  and  their  cupidity  became  alarmed.  Tremb- 
ling lest  they  should  lose  an  inheritance  which  they  consid- 
ered as  theirs,  they  united  against  me,  determined  to  put  a 
stop  to  their  aunt's  generous  intentions  by  having  me  sent  off. 
But  it  was  in  vain,  that,  for  nearly  a  year,  their  hatred  ex- 
hausted itself  in  skilful  manoeuvres.  The  instinct  of  pres- 
ervation stimulating  my  perspicacity,  I  penetrated  their  in- 
tentions, and  I  struggled  with  all  my  might.  Every 
day,  to  make  myself  more  indispensable,  I  imagined  some 
fresh  attention.  They  only  came  once  a  week  to  La  Jon- 
chere ;  I  was  there  always.  I  had  the  advantage.  1 
struggled  successfully,  and  was  probably  approaching  the 
end  of  my  troubles  when  my  poor  old  mistress  was  taken 
ill.  After  forty-eight  hours  she  was  very  low.  She  was 
fully  conscious,  but  for  that  very  reason  she  could  appre- 
ciate the  danger,  and  the  fear  of  death  made  her  crazy. 
Her  nieces  came  to  sit  by  her  bed-side  ;  and  I  was  ex- 
pressly forbidden  to  enter  the  room.  They  understood 
that  this  was  an  excellent  opportunity  to  get  rid  of  me  for 
ever.  Evidently  bribed  in  advance,  the  physicians  de- 
clared to  my  poor  benefactress  that  the  air  of  La  Jonchere 
was  fatal  to  her,  and  that  her  only  chance  of  recovery  was 
to  establish  herself  in  Paris.  One  of  her  nephews  offered 
to  have  her  taken  to  his  house  in  a  litter.  She  would  soon 
get  well,  they  said  ;  and  she  could  then  go  to  finish  her 
convalescence  in  some  southern  town.  Her  first  word  was 
for  me.  She  did  not  wish  to  be  separated  from  me,  she 
protested,  and  insisted  absolutely  upon  taking  me  with  her. 
Her  nephews  represented  to  her  that  this  was  an  impossi- 
bility ;  that  she  must  not  think  of  burdening  herself  with 
me  ;  that  the  simplest  thing  was  to  leave  me  at  La  Jon- 
chere ;  and  that,  moreover,  they  would  see  that  I  was  well 
taken  care  of.  The  sick  woman  struggled  for  a  long  time, 
and  with  an  energy  of  which  I  would  not  have  thought  hei 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


187 


capable.  But  the  others  were  pressing.  The  physicians 
kept  repeating  that  they  could  not  answer  for  anything  if 
she  did  not  follow  their  advice.  She  was  afraid  of  death. 
She  yielded,  weeping.  The  very  next  morning  a  sort  of 
litter,  carried  by  eight  men,  stopped  in  front  of  the  door. 
My  poor  mistress  was  laid  upon  it ;  and  they  carried  her 
off,  without  even  permitting  me  to  kiss  her  for  the  last 
time.  Two  hours  later  the  cook  and  the  chambermaid 
were  dismissed.  As  to  myself,  the  nephew  who  had 
promised  to  look  after  me,  put  a  twenty-franc-piece  in  m}? 
hand,  saying  :  *  Here  is  a  week's  money  in  advance.  Pack 
up  your  things  immediately,  and  clear  out ! ' 

It  was  impossible  that  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  should 
not  be  deeply  moved  whilst  thus  stirring  the  ashes  of  her 
past.  She  showed  no  sign  of  it,  however,  beyond  now  and 
then  a  slight  alteration  in  her  voice.  As  to  Maxence,  he 
would  vainly  have  tried  to  conceal  the  passionate  interest 
with  which  he  was  listening  to  these  unexpected  confi- 
dences. "  Have  you,  then,  never  seen  your  benefactress 
again   "  he  asked. 

Never,"  replied  the  young  girl.  "  All  my  efforts  to  reach 
her  have  proved  fruitless.  She  does  not  live  in  Paris  now. 
I  have  written  to  her,  my  letters  have  remained  without 
answer.  Did  she  ever  get  them  ?  I  think  not.  Some- 
thing tells  me  that  she  has  not  forgotten  me.'' 

She  remained  silent  for  a  few  moments  before  resuming 
the  thread  of  her  narrative,  as  if  lost  in  thoughts  of  the 
past.  And  then  she  resumed  :  ^'  It  was  thus  brutally  that 
I  was  sent  off.  It  would  have  been  useless  to  beg  for  pity, 
I  knew  ;  and,  moreover,  I  have  never  known  how  to  do  so. 
I  hurriedly  piled  up  in  two  trunks  and  in  some  bandboxes 
all  I  had  in  the  world,  all  I  had  received  from  the  gener- 
osity of  my  poor  mistress  ;  and  before  the  stated  hour  I 
was  ready.  The  cook  and  the  chambermaid  had  already 
gone.  The  man  who  was  treating  me  so  cruelly  was 
waiting  for  me.  He  helped  me  to  carry  out  my  things, 
after  which  he  locked  the  door,  put  the  key  in  his  pocket, 
and  as  a  tram-car  was  passing,  he  beckoned  to  the  driver 
to  stop.  And  then,  before  entering,  *  Good  luck,  my 
pretty  girl !  '  he  said  with  a  laugh.  This  was  in  the  month 
of  January,  1866.  I  was  just  thirteen.  I  have  had  since 
then  more  terrible  trials,  and  I  have  found  myself  in  much 
more  desperate  situations  ;  but  I  do  not  remember  ever 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


feeling  such  intense  discouragement  as  1  did  that  day 
when  I  was  alone  upon  that  road,  not  knowing  which  way 
to  go.  I  sat  down  on  one  of  my  trunks.  The  weather 
was  cold  and  gloomy  ;  there  were  few  passers-by.  They 
looked  at  me,  doubtless  wondering  what  I  was  doing  there. 
I  wept.  I  had  a  vague  feeling  that  the  well-meant  kind- 
ness of  my  poor  benefactress,  in  bestowing  upon  me  the 
blessings  of  education,  would  in  reality  prove  a  serious  im- 
pediment in  the  life-struggle  which  I  was  about  to  begin 
again.  I  thought  of  what  I  suffered  with  the  laundress  ; 
and,  at  the  idea  of  the  tortures  which  the  future  still  held 
in  store  for  me,  I  desired  death.  The  Seine  was  near. 
Why  not  put  an  end  at  once  to  the  miserable  existence 
which  I  foresaw  ?  Such  were  my  reflections,  when  a 
woman  from  Rueil,  an  itinerant  green-grocer,  whom  I  knew 
by  sight,  happened  to  pass,  pushing  her  hand-cart  before 
her  over  the  muddy  pavement.  She  stopped  when  she 
saw  me ;  and,  in  the  softest  voice  she  could  command, 
*  What  are  you  doing  there,  my  darling  1 '  she  asked.  In 
a  few  words  I  explained  to  her  my  situation.  She  seemed 
more  surprised  than  moved.  '  Such  is  life,'  she  remarked, 
'  sometimes  up,  sometimes  down.'  And,  stepping  up 
nearer, '  What  do  you  expect  to  do  now  ? '  she  interrogated  in 
a  tone  of  voice  so  different  from  that  in  which  she  had 
spoken  at  first,  that  I  felt  more  keenly  the  horror  of  my  al- 
tered situation.  *  I  have  no  idea,'  I  replied.  After  thinking 
for  a  moment,  'You  can't  stay  here,'  she  resumed  :  '  the 
gendarmes  will  arrest  you.  Come  with  me.  We  will  talk 
things  over  at  home  ;  and  I'll  give  you  my  advice.'  I  was 
so  completely  crushed  that  I  had  neither  strength  nor  will. 
Besides,  what  was  the  use  of  thinking.^  Had  I  any  choice 
of  resolutions  ?  Finally,  the  woman's  offer  seemed  to  me 
a  last  favour  of  destiny.  *  I  will  do  as  you  say,  madame,' 
I  replied.  She  proceeded  at  once  to  place  my  luggage  on 
her  truck.  We  started  ;  and  soon  we  arrived  '  home.' 
What  she  called  thus  was  a  sort  of  cellar,  at  least  twelve 
inches  lower  than  the  street,  receiving  its  only  light 
through  the  glass  door,  in  which  several  broken  panes  had 
been  replaced  by  sheets  of  paper.  It  was  revoltingly  filthy, 
and  filled  with  a  sickening  odour.  On  all  sides  were  heaps 
of  vegetables — cabbages,  potatoes,  onions.  In  one  corner 
a  nameless  heap  of  decaying  rags,  which  she  called  her 
bed ;  in  the  centre,  a  small  cast-iron  stove,  the  worn-out 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY,  189 

pipe  of  which  allowed  the  smoke  to  escape  into  the  room. 

*  Anyway,'  she  said,  to  me,  ^  you  have  a  home  now  !  '  I 
helped  her  to  unload  the  cart.  She  filled  the  stove  wi.h 
coal,  and  at  once  declared  that  she  wanted  to  inspect  my 
things.  My  trunks  were  opened  ;  and  it  was  with  ex- 
clamations of  surprise  that  the  woman  handled  my  dresses, 
my  skirts,  my  stockings.  'The  mischief  ! '  she  exclaimed, 
'  you  dressed  well,  didn't  you  ? '  Her  eyes  sparkled  so 
that  a  strong  feeling  of  mistrust  rose  in  my  mind.  She 
seemed  to  consider  all  my  property  as  an  unex- 
pected godsend  to  herself.  Her  hands  trembled  as  she 
handled  some  piece  of  jewellery  ;  and  she  took  me  to 
the  light  that  she  might  better  estimate  the  value  of  my 
earrings.  So,  when  she  asked  me  if  I  had  any  money,  de- 
termined to  hide  at  least  my  twenty-franc-piece,  which  was 
my  sole  fortune,  I  replied  boldly,  '  No.'  *  That's  a  pity,' 
she  grumbled.  But  she  wished  to  know  my  history,  and  I 
was  compelled  to  tell  it  to  her.  One  thing  only  surprised 
her — my  age.  And  in  fact,  though  only  thirteen,  I  looked 
fully  sixteen.    When  I  had  done,  '  Never  mind  ! '  she  said. 

*  It  was  lucky  for  you  that  you  met  me.  You  are  at  least 
certain  now  of  eating  every  day,  for  I  am  going  to  take 
charge  of  you.  I  am  getting  old  ;  you'll  help  me  to  push 
my  cart.  If  you  are  as  smart  as  you  are  pretty,  we'll  make 
money.'  Nothing  could  suit  me  less.  But  how  could  I 
resist  ?  She  threw  a  few  rags  upon  the  floor  ;  and  on 
them  I  had  to  sleep.  The  next  day,  wearing  my  meanest 
dress,  and  a  pair  of  wooden  shoes  which  she  had  bought 
for  me,  and  which  bruised  my  feet  horribly,  I  had  to  har- 
ness myself  to  the  cart  by  means  of  a  leather  strap,  which 
cut  my  shoulders  and  my  chest.  She  was  an  abominable 
creature,  that  woman  ;  and  I  soon  found  out  that  her  re- 
pulsive features  indicated  but  too  well  her  ignoble  in- 
stincts. After  leading  a  life  of  vice  and  shame,  she  had, 
with  the  approach  of  old  age,  fallen  into  the  most  abject 
poverty,  and  had  adopted  the  trade  of  selling  vegetables, 
which  she  carried  on  just  enough  to  escape  absolute  star- 
vation. Enraged  at  her  fate,  she  found  a  detestable 
pleasure  in  ill-treating  me,  or  in  endeavouring  to  stain  my 
imagination  by  the  foulest  speeches.  Ah  !  if  I  had  only 
known  where  to  fly,  and  where  to  take  refuge  !  But, 
abusing  my  ignorance,  that  execrable  woman  persuaded 
me,  that,  if  I  attempted  to  go  out  alone,  I  should  be  ar- 


IQO  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 

rested.  And  I  knew  no  one  to  whom  I  could  apply  for 
protection  and  advice.  And  then  I  began  to  learn  that 
beauty,  to  a  poor  girl,  is  a  fatal  gift.  Little  by  little,  the 
woman  sold  everything  I  had — dresses,  underclothes,  jew- 
els ;  and  I  was  soon  reduced  to  rags  almost  as  loathsome 
as  when  I  was  with  the  laundress.  Every  morning,  rain 
or  shine,  hot  or  cold,  we  started,  wheeling  our  cart  from 
village  to  village,  all  along  the  Seine,  from  Courbevoie  to 
Port-Marly.  I  could  see  no  end  to  this  wretched  existence, 
when  one  evening  the  commissary  of  police  presented  him 
self  at  our  hovel,  and  ordered  us  to  follow  him.  We  were 
taken  to  prison  ;  and  there  I  found  myself  thrown  among 
some  hundred  women,  whose  faces,  words,  and  gestures 
frightened  me.  The  vegetable-woman  had  committed  a 
theft ;  and  I  was  accused  of  complicity.  Fortunately  I 
was  easily  able  to  demonstrate  my  innocence  ;  and,  at  the 
end  of  two  weeks,  a  jailer  opened  the  door  to  me,  saying, 
'  Go  !  you  are  free  !  ' 

Maxence  understood  now  the  gently  ironical  smile 
with  which  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  had  heard  him  assert 
that  he,  tO(3,  had  been  very  unhappy.  What  a  life  hers 
had  been  !  And  how  could  such  thmgs  be  within  a  step 
of  Paris,  in  the  midst  of  a  society  which  deems  its  organ- 
ization  too  perfect  to  consent  to  modify  it ! 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  went  on,  speaking  somewhat 
faster :  "  I  was  indeed  free ;  but  of  what  use  could  my 
freedom  be  to  me  ?  I  knew  not  which  way  to  go.  A 
mechanical  instinct  took  me  back  to  Rueil.  I  fancied  I 
would  be  safer  among  people  who  all  knew  me,  and  that  I 
might  find  shelter  in  our  old  lodgings.  But  this  last  hope 
was  disappointed.  Immediately  after  our  arrest,  the 
owner  of  the  hovel  had  thrown  out  everything  it  contained, 
and  had  rented  it  to  a  hideous  beggar,  who  offered  me 
with  a  giggle  to  become  his  housekeeper.  I  ran  off  as  fast 
as  I  could.  The  situation  was  certainly  more  horrible  then 
than  the  day  when  I  had  been  turned  out  of  my  benefac- 
tress's  house.  But  the  eight  months  I  had  just  spent 
with  the  horrible  woman  had  taught  me  anew  how  to 
bear  misery,  and  had  nerved  my  energy.  I  took  out 
from  a  fold  of  my  dress,  where  I  had  kept  it  constantly 
hid,  the  twenty-franc-piece  I  had  received ;  and,  as  I  was 
hungry,  I  entered  a  sort  of  eating  and  lodging-house, 
where  I  had  occasionally  taken  a  meal.    The  proprietor 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


was  a  kind-hearted  man.  When  I  had  told  him  my 
situation,  he  invited  me  to  remain  with  him  until  I  could 
dnd  something  better.  On  Sundays  and  Mondays  the 
customers  came  in  great  numbers ;  and  he  was  obliged  to 
take  an  extra  servant.  He  offered  me  the  place,  promis- 
ing in  exchange  my  lodging  and  one  meal  a  day.  I 
accepted.  The  next  day  being  Sunday,  I  commenced 
the  arduous  duties  of  a  servant  in  a  low  drinking-house. 
My  gratuities  amounted  sometimes  to  five  or  ten  francs  ; 
I  had  my  board  and  lodging  free ;  and  at  the  end  of 
three  months  I  was  able  to  provide  myself  with  some  de- 
cent clothing,  and  was  commencing  to  accumulate  a 
little  reserve,  when  my  master,  whose  business  had  un- 
expectedly developed  itself  to  a  considerable  extent,  de- 
cided to  engage  a  man-waiter,  and  requested  me  to  look 
elsewhere  for  work.  I  did  so.  An  old  neighbour  of  ours 
told  me  of  a  situation  at  Bougival,  where  she  said  I  would 
be  very  comfortable.  Overcoming  my  repugnance,  I 
applied  and  was  accepted,  I  was  to  get  thirty  francs  a 
month.  The  place  might  have  been  a  good  one.  There 
were  only  three  in  the  family,  the  gentleman  and  his 
wife,  and  a  son  of  twenty-five.  Every  morning  father  and 
son  left  for  Paris  by  the  first  train,  and  only  came  home 
to  dinner  at  about  six  o'clock.  I  was  therefore  alone  all 
day  with  the  woman.  Unfortunately,  she  was  a  cross 
and  disagreeable  person,  who,  never  having  had  a  ser- 
vant before,  felt  an  insatiable  desire  of  showing  and 
exercising  her  authority.  She  w^as,  moreover,  extremely 
suspicious,  and  found  some  pretext  to  visit  regularly 
my  trunk  once  or  twice  a  week  to  see  if  I  had  not  con- 
cealed some  of  her  napkins  or  silver  spoons.  Having 
foolishly  told  her  that  I  had  once  been  a  laundress,  she 
made  me  wash  and  iron  all  the  clothes  in  the  house,  and 
was  forever  accusing  me  of  using  too  much  soap  and  too 
much  coal.  Still  I  liked  the  place  well  enough  ;  and  I 
had  a  little  attic,  which  I  thought  charming,  and  where  I 
spent  delightful  evenings  reading  or  sewing.  But  luck 
was  against  me.  The  young  gentleman  of  the  house 
took  a  fancy  to  me  and  determined  to  make  me  his  mis- 
tress. I  discouraged  him  as  much  as  I  could  ;  but  he 
persisted  in  his  loathsome  attention,  until  one  night  he 
broke  into  my  room,  and  I  was  compelled  to  shout  for 
help  with  all  my  might  before  I  could  get  rid  of  him. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


The  next  day  I  left  that  house ;  but  I  tried  in  vain  to  find 
another  situation  in  Bougival.  I  resolved  then  to  seek  a 
place  in  Paris.  I  had  a  big  trunk  full  of  good  clothes, 
and  about  a  hundred  francs  of  savings  \  and  I  felt  no 
anxiety.  When  I  arrived  in  Paris,  I  went  straight  to  a 
registry-office.  I  was  extremely  well  received  by  a  very 
affable  old  woman,  who  promised  to  get  me  a  good  place, 
and  in  the  meantime  recommended  me  to  board  with  her. 
She  kept  a  sort  of  boarding-house  for  servants  out  of 
situations,  and  there  were  some  fifty  or  sixty  of  us,  who 
slept  at  night  in  long  dormitories.  Time  went  by,  and 
still  I  did  not  find  that  famous  place.  The  board  was  ex- 
pensive, too,  for  my  scanty  means  ;  and  I  determined  to 
leave.  I  started  in  quest  of  new  lodgings,  followed  by  a 
porter,  carrying  my  trunk;  but  as  I  was  crossing  the 
Boulevard,  not  getting  quick  enough  out  of  the  way  of  a 
handsome  private  carriage  which  was  coming  at  a  great 
pace,  I  was  knocked  down  and  trampled  under  the 
horses'  feet." 

Without  allowing  Maxence  to  interrupt  her,  she  con- 
tinued :  "  I  lost  consciousness.  When  I  came  to  my 
senses  I  was  sitting  in  a  chemist's  shop,  and  three  or 
four  persons  were  busy  around  me.  I  had  no  fracture, 
but  only  some  severe  contusions,  and  a  deep  cut  on  the 
head.  The  physician  who  had  attended  me  requested  me 
to  try  and  walk;  but  I  could  not  even  stand  on  my  feet. 
Then  he  asked  me  where  I  lived,  that  I  might  be  taken 
there  ;  and  I  was  compelled  to  own  that  I  was  a  poor 
servant  out  of  place,  without  a  home  or  a  friend  to  care 
for  me.  *  In  that  case,'  said  the  doctor  to  the  chemist, 
*  we  must  send  her  to  the  hospital.'  And  they  sent  for  a 
cab.  In  the  meantime  quite  a  crowd  had  gathered  out- 
side ;  and  the  conduct  of  the  person  who  was  in  the 
carriage  that  had  run  over  me  was  being  indignantly 
criticised.  It  was  a  woman  ;  and  I  had  caught  a  glimpse 
of  her  at  the  very  moment  I  was  falling  under  the  horses' 
feet.  She  had  not  even  condescended  to  get  out  of  her 
carriage  ;  but,  calling  a  policeman,  she  had  given  him  her 
name  and  address,  adding  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  the 
crowd,  '  I  am  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  stop.  My  coach- 
man is  an  awkward  fellow,  whom  I  shall  dismiss  as  soon 
as  I  get  home.  I  am  ready  to  pay  anything  that  may  be 
asked.'    She  had  also  sent  one  of  her  cards  for  me,  *pd 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


193 


f  read  the  name,  Baroness  de  Thaller.  *  That's  lucky  for 
you/  said  the  doctor.  '  That  lady  is  the  wife  of  a  very 
rich  banker ;  and  she  will  be  able  to  help  you  when  you 
get  well.'  The  cab  had  now  come.  I  was  carried  to  it ; 
and  an  hour  later  I  was  admitted  into  the  hospital  and 
laid  on  a  clean,  comfortable  bed.  But  my  trunk  !  my 
trunk,  which  contained  all  my  things,  all  I  had  in  the 
world,  and  w^orse  still,  all  the  money  I  had  left !  I  asked 
for  it,  my  heart  filled  with  anxiety.  No  one  had  either 
seen  or  heard  of  it.  Had  the  porter  missed  me  in  the 
crowd  ?  or  had  he  basely  availed  himself  of  the  accident 
to  rob  me  ?  This  was  hard  to  decide.  The  nuns  prom- 
ised that  they  would  have  it  looked  after,  and  that  the 
police,  would  certainly  be  able  to  find  the  man  whom  I 
had  engaged  near  the  registry  office.  But  all  these 
assurances  failed  to  console  me.  This  blow  was  the 
finishing  one.  I  was  seized  with  fever ;  and  for  more 
than  two  weeks  my  life  was  despaired  of.  I  was  saved  at 
last ;  but  my  convalescence  was  long  and  tedious  ;  and 
for  over  two  months  I  lingered  with  alternations  of 
better  and  of  worse.  Yet  such  had  been  my  misery  for 
the  past  two  years,  that  this  gloomy  stay  in  a  hospital 
was  for  me  like  an  oasis  in  the  desert.  The  good  nuns 
were  very  kind  to  me ;  and  when  I  was  able,  I  helped 
them  with  their  lighter  work,  or  went  to  the  chapel  with 
them.  I  shuddered  at  the  thought  that  I  must  leave 
them  as  soon  as  I  was  entirely  well ;  and  then  what  would 
become  of  me  ?  for  my  trunk  had  not  been  found, 
and  I  was  destitute  of  all.  And  yet  I  had  at  the  hospital 
more  than  one  subject  for  gloomy  reflections.  Twice  a 
week,  on  Thursday  and  Sundays,  visitors  were  admitted ; 
and  there  was  not  on  those  days  a  single  patient  who 
did  not  receive  a  relative  or  a  friend.  But  I,  no  one, 
nothing,  never !  But  I  am  mistaken.  I  was  commencing 
to  get  well,  when  one  Sunday  I  saw  by  my  bedside  an  old 
man,  dressed  all  in  black,  of  alarming  appearance,  wear- 
ing blue  spectacles,  and  holding  under  his  arm  an  enor- 
mous portfolio,  crammed  full  of  papers.  *  You  are 
Mademoiselle  Lucienne,  I  believe,'  he  asked.  *  Yes,'  I 
replied,  quite  surprised.  *You  are  the  person  who 
was  knocked  down  by  a  carriage  at  the  comer  of  the 
Boulevard  and  the  Faubourg  St.  Martin  ? '  '  Yes,  sir.' 
*  Do  you  know  whose  equipage  that  was  ? '  *  The  Baron 
13 


194 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


ess  de  Thaller's,  I  was  told.'  He  seemed  a  little 
surprised,  but  at  once  asked  :  '  Have  you  seen  that  lady, 
or  caused  her  to  be  seen  on  your  behalf  ? '  '  No.' 
*  Have  you  heard  from  her  in  any  manner  1  '  '  No.'  A 
smile  came  to  his  lips.  ^  Luckily  for  you  I  am  here,'  he 
said.  ^  Several  times  already  I  have  called ;  but  you 
were  too  unwell  to  hear  me.  Now  that  you  are  better, 
iisten.'  And  thereupon  taking  a  chair,  he  commenced  to 
explain  his  profession  to  me. 

He  was  a  sort  of  broker ;  and  accidents  were  his  spe- 
cialty. As  soon  as  one  took  place,  he  was  notified  by  some 
friends  of  his  at  police  headquarters.  At  once  he  started 
in  quest  of  the  victim,  overtook  him  at  home  or  at  the  hos- 
pital, and  offered  his  services.  For  a  moderate  commission 
he  undertook,  if  needs  be,  to  recover  damages.  He  com- 
menced suit  when  necessary ;  and  if  he  thought  the  case 
tolerably  safe,  he  made  advances.  He  stated,  for  instance, 
that  my  case  was  a  plain  one,  and  that  he  would  undertake 
to  obtain  four  or  five  thousand  francs  at  least  from  Mad- 
ame de  Thaller.  All  he  wanted  was  my  power  of  attorney. 
But  in  spite  of  his  pressing  instances,  I  declined  his  offers  ; 
and  he  withdrew,  very  much  displeased,  assuring  me  that 
I  would  soon  repent.  Upon  second  thoughts,  indeed,  I 
regretted  to  have  followed  the  first  inspiration  of  my  pride, 
and  the  more  so,  that  the  nuns  whom  I  consulted  on  the 
subject  told  me  that  I  was  wrong,  and  that  my  reclamation 
would  be  perfectly  proper.  At  their  suggestion  I  then 
adopted  another  line  of  conduct,  which  they  thought  would 
as  surely  bring  about  the  same  result.  As  briefly  as  pos- 
sible, I  wrote  out  the  history  of  my  life  from  the  day  I  had 
been  left  with  the  gardeners  at  Louveciennes.  I  added  to 
it  a  faithful  account  of  my  present  condition  ;  and  I  ad- 
dressed the  whole  to  Madame  de  Thaller.  *  You'll  see 
that  she  will  quickly  come  to  you,'  said  the  nuns.  They 
were  mistaken.  Madame  de  Thaller  came  neither  the  next 
nor  the  following  days  ;  and  I  was  still  awaiting  her  an- 
swerp  when  one  morning  the  doctor  announced  that  I  was 
well  enough  to  leave  the  hospital.  I  cannot  say  that  I  was 
very  sorry.  I  had  lately  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  young 
workwoman,  who  had  been  sent  to  the  hospital  in  conse- 
quence of  a  fall,  and  who  occupied  the  bed  next  to  mine. 
She  was  a  girl  of  about  twenty,  very  gentle,  very  obliging, 
and  whose  amiable  countenance  had  attracted  me  fron? 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


195 


the  first.  Like  myself,  she  had  no  parents.  But  she  was 
rich,  very  rich.  She  owned  the  furniture  of  the  room  where 
she  Hved,  a  sewing-machine  which  had  cost  her  three  hun- 
dred francs,  and,  Uke  a  true  child  of  Paris,  she  understood 
five  or  six  trades,  the  least  lucrative  of  which  yielded  her 
twenty-five  or  thirty  sous  a  day.  In  less  than  a  week  we 
had  become  great  friends ;  and  when  she  left  the  hospital, 
she  said  :  '  Believe  me,  when  you  come  out  yourself  don't 
waste  your  time  looking  for  a  place.  Come  to  me  ;  I  can 
accommodate  you.  I'll  teach  you  what  I  know  ;  and  if  you 
are  industrious,  you'll  easily  earn  your  living  and  you'll  be 
free.'  It  was  to  her  then  that  I  went  straight  from  the 
hospital,  carrying,  tied  in  a  hankerchief,  my  entire  posses- 
sions :  one  dress  and  a  few  undergarments  that  the  kind 
nuns  had  given  me.  She  received  me  like  a  sister,  and  af- 
ter showing  me  her  lodging,  two  little  attic-rooms  shining 
with  cleanliness.  *  You'll  see,'  she  said,  kissing  me,  *  how 
happy  we'll  be  here.'  " 

XXVIII. 

It  was  getting  late.  M.  Fortin  had  long  ago  come  up 
and  put  out  the  gas  on  the  stairs.  One  by  one,  every  noise 
had  died  away  in  the  hotel.  Nothing  now  disturbed  the 
silence  of  the  night  save  the  distant  sound  of  some  belated 
cab  on  the  Boulevard.  But  neither  Maxence  nor  Lucienne 
noticed  the  flight  of  time,  so  interested  were  they,  one  in 
telling  and  the  other  in  listening  to  this  story  of  a  wonder- 
ful existence.  However,  Lucienne's  voice  had  become 
hoarse  wih  fatigue.  She  poured  herself  out  a  glass  of  wa- 
ter, which  she  emptied  at  a  draught,  and  then  at  once  re- 
sumed her  narrative. 

"  Never  yet,"  she  said,  "  had  I  been  agitated  by  such  a 
sweet  sensation.  My  eyes  were  full  of  tears ;  but  they 
were  tears  of  gratitude  and  joy.  After  so  many  years  of 
isolation,  to  meet  with  such  a  friend,  so  generous,  and  so 
devoted  :  it  was  like  finding  a  family.  For  a  few  weeks,  I 
thought  that  fate  had  relented  at  last.  My  friend  was  an 
excellent  work-woman ;  but  with  some  intelligence,  and 
the  will  to  learn,  I  soon  knew  as  much  as  she  did.  There 
was  plenty  to  do.  By  working  twelve  hours,  with  the  help 
of  the  thrice-blessed  sewing-machine,  we  succeeded  in 
earning  six,  seven,  and  even  eight  francs  a  day.    It  was  a 


196 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


fortune.  Thus  several  months  elapsed  in  comparative 
comfort.  Once  more  I  was  afloat,  and  I  had  more  clothes 
than  I  had  lost  in  my  trunk.  I  liked  the  life  I  was  lead- 
ing ;  and  I  would  be  leading  it  still,  if  my  friend  had  not 
one  day  fallen  desperately  in  love  with  a  young  man  she 
had  met  at  a  ball.  I  disliked  him  very  much,  and  took 
no  trouble  to  conceal  my  feelings  ;  nevertheless,  my  friend 
imagined  that  I  had  designs  upon  him,  and  became  fiercely 
jealous  of  me.  Jealousy  does  not  reason  ;  and  I  soon  un- 
derstood that  we  would  no  longer  be  able  to  live  in  com- 
mon, and  that  I  must  look  elsewhere  for  shelter.  But  my 
friend  gave  me  no  time  to  do  so.  Coming  home  one  Mon- 
day night  at  about  eleven,  she  notified  me  to  clear  out  at 
once.  I  attempted  to  expostulate  ;  she  replied  with  abuse. 
Rather  than  enter  upon  a  degrading  struggle,  I  yielded 
and  went  out.  That  night  I  spent  on  a  chair  in  a  neigh- 
bour's room.  But  the  next  day,  when  I  went  for  my  things, 
my  former  friend  refused  to  give  them,  and  presumed  to 
keep  everything.  I  was  compelled,  though  reluctantly,  to 
resort  to  the  intervention  of  the  commissary  of  police.  I 
gained  my  point.  But  the  good  days  had  gone.  Luck 
did  not  follow  me  to  the  wretched  furnished  house  where 
I  hired  a  room.  I  had  no  sewing-machine,  and  but  few 
acquaintances.  By  working  fifteen  or  sixteen  hours  a  day, 
I  made  thirty  or  forty  sous.  That  was  not  enough  to  live 
on.  Then  work  failed  me  altogether,  and,  piece  by  piece, 
everything  I  had  went  to  the  pawnbroker's.  On  a  gloomy 
December  morning  I  was  turned  out  of  my  room,  and  left 
on  the  pavement  witli  half-a-franc  for  my  fortune.  Never 
had  I  been  so  low  ;  and  I  know  not  to  what  extremities  I 
might  have  come  at  last,  when  I  happened  to  think  of  that 
wealthy  lady  whose  horses  had  upset  me  on  the  Boulevard. 
I  had  kept  her  card.  Without  hesitation,  I  went  into  a 
milk-shop,  and,  calling  for  some  paper  and  a  pen,  I  wrote, 
overcoming  the  last  struggle  of  my  pride.  '  Do  you  re- 
member, madame,  a  poor  girl  whom  your  carriage  came 
near  crushing  to  death  1  Once  before  she  applied  to  you, 
and  received  no  answer.  She  is  to-day  without  shelter  and 
without  bread  ;  and  you  are  her  supreme  hope.'  I  placed 
these  few  lines  in  an  envelope  and  ran  to  the  address  indi- 
cated on  the  card.  It  was  a  magnificent  residence,  with  a 
vast  court-yard  in  front.  In  the  concierge's  lodge,  five  or 
six  servants  were  talking  as  I  came  in,  and  they  looked  at 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


197 


me  impudently,  from  head  to  foot,  when  I  requested  them 
to  take  my  letter  to  Madame  de  Thaller.  One  of  them, 
however,  took  pity  on  me.  '  Come  with  me,'  he  said,  '  come 
along ! '  He  made  me  cross  the  court-yard,  and  enter  the 
vestibule  ;  and  then  added  :  '  Give  me  your  letter,  and  wait 
here  for  me.'  " 

Maxence  was  about  to  express  the  thoughts  which  Mad- 
ame de  Thaller's  name  naturally  suggested  to  his  mind ; 
but  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  interrupted  him.  "  In  all  my 
life,"  she  continued,  "  I  had  never  seen  anything  so  mag- 
nificent as  this  vestiL'UiJL  with  its  tall  columns,  its  tessellated 
marble  floor,  its  bron2'j  flower-stands  filled  with  the  rarest 
flowers,  and  its  velvet-covered  seats,  upon  which  tali  foot- 
men in  brilliant  livery  were  lounging.  I  was,  I  confess, 
somewhat  intimidated  by  the  sight  of  all  this  splendour ; 
and  I  remained  awkwardly  standing,  when  suddenly  the 
servants  stood  up  respectfully.  A  door  had  just  opened, 
through  which  appeared  a  man  already  past  middle  age, 
tall,  thin,  dressed  in  the  extreme  of  fashion,  and  wearing 
long  red  whiskers  falling  over  his  chest." 

The  Earon  de  Thaller,"  murmured  Maxence. 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  took  no  notice  of  the  interrup- 
tion. "  The  attitude  of  the  servants,"  she  went  on,  had 
made  me  easily  guess  that  he  was  the  master.  I  was  bow- 
ing to  him,  blushing  and  embarrassed,  when,  suddenly 
perceiving  me,  he  stopped  short,  shuddering  from  head  to 
foot.  ^  Who  are  you  ? '  he  asked  me  roughly.  I  attributed 
his  manner  to  the  sad  condition  of  my  clothes,  which  ap- 
peared more  miserable  and  more  dilapidated  still  amid  the 
surrounding  splendours ;  and,  in  scarcely  an  intelligible 
voice,  I  began,  '  I  am  a  poor  girl,  sir — '  But  he  inter- 
rupted me.  ^  To  the  point !  What  do  you  want  ? '  ^  I  am 
awaiting  an  answer,  sir,  to  a  note  which  I  have  just  for- 
warded to  the  baroness.'  *  What  about?'  *  Once,  sir,  I 
was  run  over  in  the  street  by  the  baroness's  carriage.  I 
was  severely  hurt,  and  nad  to  be  taken  to  the  hospital.'  I 
noticed  something  like  terror  in  the  man's  look.  '  It  is 
you,  then,  who  once  before  sent  a  long  letter  to  my  wife, 
in  which  you  told  the  story  of  your  life?'  *Yes,  sir,  it 
was  I.'  *  You  stated  in  that  letter  that  you  had  no  parents, 
having  been  left  by  your  mother  with  some  gardeners  at 
Louveciennes  ? '  '  That  is  the  truth.'  '  What  hiij  become 
of  those  gardeners  ? '    *  They  are  dead.'    *  What  was  your 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


mother's  name  ? '  *  I  never  knew.'  To  M.  de  Thaller's 
first  surprise  had  succeeded  a  feeling  of  evident  irritation ; 
but  the  more  haughty  and  brutal  his  manners,  the  cooler 
and  the  more  self-possessed  I  became.  ^  And  you  are  so 
liciting  assistance  ? '  he  resumed.  I  drew  myself  up,  and, 
looking  him  straight  in  the  face,  *  I  beg  your  pardon,'  I 
replied,  *  it  is  a  legitimate  indemnity  which  I  claim.'  In- 
deed, it  seemed  to  me  that  my  firmness  alarmed  him. 
With  feverish  haste,  he  began  to  feel  in  his  pockets.  He 
took  out  all  the  gold  and  bank-notes  they  contained,  and, 
thrusting  the  money  into  my  hands  without  counting,  said  : 
'  Here,  take  this.  Are  you  satisfied  ? '  I  observed  to  him, 
that,  having  sent  a  note  to  Madame  de  Thaller,  it  would 
perhaps  be  more  polite  to  await  her  answer.  But  he  re- 
plied that  it  was  not  necessary,  and,  pushing  me  towards 
the  door,  exclaimed :  ^  You  may  deoend  upon  it,  I  will  tell 
my  wife  that  I  saw  you.'  I  withdrew  ;  but  I  had  not  gone 
ten  steps  across  the  courtyard,  when  I  heard  him  cry  ex- 
citedly to  his  servants  :  '  You  see  that  beggar-girl,  don't 
you?  Well  the  first  one  who  allows  her  to  cross  the 
threshold  of  my  door  shall  be  dismissed  on  the  instant.' 
A  beggar.  I  !  Ah  the  wretch  !  I  turned  round  to  cast 
his  alms  in  his  face ;  but  he  had  already  disappeared,  and 
I  only  saw  the  footmen  chuckling  stupidly.  I  went  out ; 
and,  as  my  anger  gradually  passed  off,  I  felt  thankful  that 
I  had  been  unable  to  follow  the  dictates  of  my  wounded 
pride.  *  Poor  girl,'  I  thought  to  myself,  ^  where  would  you 
be  at  this  hour  1  You  would  only  have  to  select  between 
suicide  and  the  vilest  existence ;  whereas  now  you  are 
above  want.'  I  was  passing  before  a  small  restaurant.  I 
went  in ;  for  I  was  very  hungry,  having,  so  to  speak,  eaten 
nothing  for  several  days  past.  Besides,  I  felt  anxious  to 
count  my  treasure.  The  Baron  de  Thaller  had  given  me 
nine  hundred  and  thirty  francs.  This  sum,  which  ex- 
ceeded the  utmost  limits  of  my  ambition,  seemed  inex- 
haustible to  me.  I  was  dazzled  by  its  possession.  '  And 
yet,'  I  thought,  *  had  M.  de  Thaller  happened  to  have  had 
ten  thousand  francs  in  his  pockets,  he  w^ould  have  given 
them  to  me  all  the  same,'  I  was  at  a  loss  to  explain  this 
strange  generosity.  Why  his  surprise  when  he  first  saw 
me,  then  his  anger,  and  his  haste  to  get  rid  of  me  t  How 
was  it  that  a  man  whose  mind  must  be  filled  with  the 
gravest  cares  had  so  distinctly  remembered  me,  and  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


199 


(etter  I  had  written  to  his  wife  ?  Why,  after  showing  him- 
self so  generous,  had  he  so  strictly  excluded  me  from  his 
house  ?  After  vainly  trying  for  some  time  to  solve  this 
riddle,  I  concluded  that  I  must  be  the  victim  of  my  own 
imagination ;  and  I  turned  my  attention  to  making  the 
best  possible  use  of  my  sudden  fortune.  On  the  same 
day  I  took  a  little  room  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Denis ;  and  I 
bought  myself  a  sewing-machine.  Before  the  week  was  over, 
I  had  work  before  me  for  several  months.  Ah  !  this  time  it 
seemed  indeed  that  I  had  nothing  more  to  apprehend  from 
destiny,  and  I  looked  forward,  without  fear,  to  the  future. 
At  the  end  of  a  month,  I  was  earning  four  to  five  francs  a 
day,  when,  one  afternoon,  a  stout  man,  very  well  dressed, 
looking  honest  and  good-natured,  and  speaking  French 
with  some  difficulty,  made  his  appearance  at  my  room. 
He  was  an  American,  he  stated,  and  had  been  sent  to  me 
by  the  person  for  whom  I  worked.  Having  need  of  a 
skilled  Parisian  work-woman,  he  came  to  propose  to  me 
to  go  with  him  to  New  York,  v/here  he  would  insure  me  a 
brilliant  position.  But  I  knew  several  poor  girls,  who,  on 
the  faith  of  dazzling  promises,  had  expatriated  themselves. 
Once  abroad,  they  had  been  shamefully  abandoned,  and 
had  been  driven,  to  escape  starvation,  to  resort  to  the 
vilest  expedients.  I  refused,  therefore,  and  frankly  gave 
him  my  reasons  for  doing  so.  My  visitor  at  once  protested 
indignantly.  Whom  did  I  take  him  for  1  It  was  a  fortune 
that  I  was  refusing.  He  guaranteed  me  in  New  York 
board,  lodging,  and  two  hundred  francs  a  month.  He 
would  pay  all  travelling  and  moving  expenses.  And,  to 
prove  to  me  the  fairness  of  his  intentions,  he  was  ready, 
he  said,  to  sign  an  agreement,  and  pay  me  a  thousand 
francs  down.  These  offers  were  so  brilliant  that  I  was 
staggered  in  my  resolution.  *Well,'  I  said,  *give  me 
twenty-four  hours  to  think  it  over.  I  wish  to  consult  my 
employer.'  He  seemed  very  much  annoyed ;  but,  as  I  re- 
mained firm  in  my  purpose,  he  left,  promising  to  return 
the  next  day  to  receive  my  final  answer.  I  went  at  once 
to  my  employer.  She  did  not  know  what  I  was  talking 
about.  She  had  sent  no  one,  and  was  not  acquainted  with 
any  American.  Of  course,  I  never  saw  him  again  ;  and  I 
couldn't  help  thinking  of  this  singular  adventure,  when, 
one  evening  during  the  following  week,  as  I  was  coming 
home  at  about  eleven  o'clock,  two  policemen  anested  me^ 


200 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


and,  in  spite  of  my  earnest  protestations,  took  me  to  the 
station-house,  where  I  was  locked  up  with  a  dozen  unfor- 
tunates who  had  just  been  taken  up  on  the  Boulevards.  I 
spent  the  night  crying  with  shame  and  anger ;  and  I  don't 
know  what  would  have  become  of  me,  if  the  officer  who 
examined  me  the  next  morning,  had  not  happened  to  be  a 
just  and  kind  man.  As  soon  as  I  had  explained  that  I 
was  the  victim  of  a  most  humiliating  error,  he  sent  an 
agent  in  quest  of  information,  and  having  satisfied  himself 
that  I  was  a  virtuous  girl,  working  for  my  living,  he  dis- 
charged me.  But  before  permitting  me  to  go,  he  said  % 
*  Beware,  my  child ;  it  was  upon  a  formal  and  well-authen- 
ticated declaration  that  you  were  arrested.  Therefore  you 
must  have  enemies ;  people  who  have  an  interest  in  get- 
ting rid  of  you/ 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  was  evidently  ahnost  exhausted 
with  fatigue  :  her  voice  was  failing  her.  But  it  was  in  vain 
that  Maxence  begged  her  to  take  a  few  moments  rest. 

"  No,"  she  answered,  ^'  I  would  rather  get  through  as 
quickly  as  possible."  And  making  an  effort  she  hurriedly 
resumed  her  narrative. 

"  I  returned  home,  my  mind  all  disturbed  by  the  police- 
officer's  warnings.  I  am  no  coward;  but  it  is  a  terrible 
thing  to  feel  one's  self  incessantly  threatened  by  an  un- 
known and  mysterious  danger,  against  which  nothing  can 
be  done.  In  vain  did  I  search  my  past  life  :  I  could  think 
of  no  one  who  could  have  any  interest  in  effecting  my 
ruin.  Those  alone  have  enemies  who  have  had  friends. 
I  had  never  had  but  one  friend,  the  kind-hearted  girl  who 
had  turned  me  out  of  her  home  in  a  fit  of  absurd  jealousy. 
But  I  knew  her  well  enough  to  know  that  she  was  incapa- 
ble of  malice,  and  that  she  must  long  since  have  forgotten 
the  unlucky  cause  of  our  rupture.  Week  after  week  passed 
without  any  new  incident.  I  had  plenty  of  work,  and 
was  earning  enough  money  to  begin  saving.  So  I  felt 
comfortable,  laughed  at  my  former  fears,  and  neglected 
the  precautions  which  I  had  taken  at  first ;  when,  one 
evening,  my  employer,  having  a  very  important  and  press- 
ing order,  sent  for  me.  We  did  not  get  through  our  work 
until  long  after  midnight.  She  wished  me  to  spend  the 
rest  of  the  night  with  her ;  but  it  would  have  been  neces- 
sary to  make  up  a  bed  for  me,  and  disturb  the  whole 
household.    *  Never  mind,'  I  said,  *this  will  not  be  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


201 


first  time  I  have  been  out  in  the  middle  of  the  night.'  I 

went  off,  and  I  was  going  along,  walking  as  fast  as  I 
could,  when,  from  the  angle  of  a  dark,  narrow  street,  a 
man  sprang  upon  me,  threw  me  down,  struck  me,  and 
would  doubtless  have  killed  me,  but  for  two  brave  gentle- 
men who  heard  my  screams  and  rushed  to  my  assistance. 
The  man  ran  off ;  and  I  was  able  to  walk  the  rest  of  the 
way  home,  having  received  but  a  very  slight  wound.  But 
early  the  next  morning  I  went  to  see  my  friend,  the  police- 
officer.  He  listened  to  me  gravely,  and  when  I  had  con- 
cluded, *  How  were  you  dressed  ? '  he  inquired.  *  All  in 
black '  I  replied,  '  very  modestly,  like  a  workwoman.' 
*  Had  you  nothing  on  your  person  that  could  tempt  a 
thief? '  *  Nothing.  No  watch-chain,  no  jewellery,  no  ear- 
rings even.'  '  Then,'  he  exclaimed,  knitting  his  brows, 
'  it  is  not  a  fortuitous  crime  ;  it  is  another  attempt  on  the 
part  of  your  enemies.'  *  But,  sir,'  I  objected,  *  who  can 
wish  to  injure  me,  poor  obscure  girl  as  I  am  ?  I  have 
thought  carefully  and  well,  and  I  have  not  a  single  enemy 
that  I  know  of.'  And,  as  I  had  full  confidence  in  his 
kindness,  I  at  once  told  him  the  story  of  my  life.  '  You 
are  a  natural  child,'  he  said,  as  soon  as  I  had  done,  '  and 
you  have  been  basely  abandoned.  That  fact  alone  would 
be  sufficient  to  justify  every  supposition.  You  do  not 
know  your  parents ;  but  it  is  quite  possible  that  they  may 
know  you,  and  that  they  may  never  have  lost  sight  of  you. 
Your  mother  was  a  work-girl,  you  think  ?  Thac  may  be. 
But  your  father?  Do  you  know  what  interests  yonr  ex- 
istence may  threaten  ?  Do  you  know  what  elaborate  edi- 
fice of  falsehood  and  infamy  your  sudden  appearance 
might  tumble  to  the  ground  ? '  I  listened  with  astonish- 
ment. Never  had  such  conjectures  crossed  my  mind,  and, 
whilst  I  doubted  their  probability,  I  had  at  least  to  admit 
their  possibility.  *  What  must  I  do,  then  ?  '  I  inquired. 
The  police-officer  shook  his  head.  ^  Indeed,  my  poor 
child,  I  hardly  know  what  to  advise.  The  police  are  not 
omnipotent  They  can  do  nothing  to  anticipate  a  crime 
conceived  in  the  brain  of  an  unknown  scoundrel.'  I  was 
terrified.  He  saw  it  and  took  pity  on  me.  *  In  your 
place,'  he  added,  ^  I  would  change  my  domicile.  You 
might,  perhaps,  thus  make  them  lose  your  track.  And, 
above  all,  do  not  fail  to  give  me  your  new  address.  What? 


202 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


ever  I  can  do  to  protect  vou  and  insure  your  safety,  I  will 
do/ 

"That  excellent  man  has  kept  his  word;  and  once 
again  I  owed  my  safety  to  him.  He  is  now  commissary 
of  police  of  this  district,  and  it  was  he  who  protected  me 
against  Madame  Fortin.  I  hastened  to  follow  his  advice, 
and  two  days  later  I  had  hired  the  room  in  this  house  in 
which  I  am  still  living.  In  order  to  avoid  every  chance 
of  discovery  I  left  my  employer,  and  requested  her  to  say, 
if  anyone  came  to  inquire  after  me,  that  I  had  gone  to 
America.  I  soon  obtained  work  in  a  very  fashionable 
dressmaking  establishment,  of  which  you  have  probably 
heard,  Van  Klopen's.  Unfortunately  war  had  just  been 
declared.  Every  day  announced  a  new  defeat.  The 
Prussians  were  coming;  then  the  siege  began.  M.  Van 
Klopen  had  closed  his  establishment  and  left  Paris.  I 
had  a  few  savings,  thank  heaven,  and  I  husbanded  them 
as  carefully  as  shipwrecked  mariners  do  their  last  ration 
of  food,  when  I  unexpectedly  obtained  some  work.  It 
was  one  Sunday,  and  I  had  gone  out  for  a  walk  when 
some  battalions  of  National  Guards  passed  along  the 
Boulevards.  I  stopped  to  watch  them,  and  suddenly  I 
saw  one  of  the  vivandieres^  who  was  marching  behind  the 
band,  leave  the  ranks  and  run  towards  me  with  open  arms. 
It  was  my  old  BatignoUes  friend,  who  had  recognized  me. 
She  threw  her  arms  round  my  neck,  and  we  at  once  be- 
came the  centre  of  a  group  of  at  least  five  hundred  idlers. 
^  I  must  speak  to  you,'  she  said.  *  If  you  live  in  the 
neighbourhood,  let's  go  to  your  room.  The  service  must 
wait.'  I  brought  her  here ;  and  she  at  once  commenced 
to  excuse  herself  for  her  past  conduct,  begging  me  to  re- 
store her  my  friendship.  As  I  expected,  she  had  long 
since  forgotten  the  young  man,  cause  of  our  rupture.  But 
she  was  now  in  love,  and  seriously  this  time,  she  declared, 
with  a  furniture-maker,  who  was  a  captain  in  the  National 
Guards.  It  was  through  him  that  she  had  become  a 
viva7idiere ;  and  she  offered  me  a  similar  position  if  I 
wished  it.  But  I  did  not  care  for  it ;  and,  as  I  was  com- 
plaining that  I  could  obtain  no  work,  she  swore  that  she 
would  get  me  some  through  her  captain,  who  was  a  very 
influential  man.  Through  him,  I  did  in  fact  obtain  a  few 
dozen  jackets  to  make.  This  work  was  very  poorly  paid  ; 
but  the  little  I  earned  was  so  much  less  to  take  from  my 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


203 


humble  resources.  In  that  way  I  managed  to  pull  through 
the  siege  without  suffering  too  much.  After  the  armistice 
unfortunately,  M.  Van  Klopen,  not  having  yet  returned, 
I  was  unable  to  procure  any  work ;  my  resources  were  ex- 
hausted, and  I  would  have  starved  during  the  Commune, 
but  for  my  friend,  who  several  times  brought  me  a  little 
money,  and  some  provisions.  Her  captain  was  now  a 
colonel,  and  was  about  to  become  a  member  of  the  gov- 
ernment, at  least,  so  she  assured  me,  and  he  had  promised 
to  marry  her.  The  entrance  of  the  troops  into  Paris  put 
an  end  to  her  dream.  One  night  she  came  to  me  livid 
with  fear.  She  supposed  herself  gravely  compromised, 
and  begged  me  to  hide  her.  For  four  days  she  remamed 
with  me.  On  the  fifth,  just  as  v/e  were  sitting  down  to 
dinner,  my  room  was  invaded  by  a  number  of  police- 
agents,  who  showed  us  an  order  of  arrest,  and  commanded 
us  to  follow  them.  My  friend  sank  down  upon  a  chair, 
stupid  with  fright.  But  I  retained  m^y  presence  of  mind, 
and  persuaded  one  of  the  agents  to  go  and  notify  my 
friend  the  commissary.  He  happened  luckily  to  be  at 
home,  and  at  once  hastened  to  my  assistance.  He  could 
do  nothing,  however,  for  the  moment ;  the  agents  having 
positive  orders  to  take  us  straight  to  Versailles.  ^  Well,' 
said  he  ^  I  will  accompany  you.' 

"  From  the  very  first  steps  he  took  the  next  morning, 
he  discovered  that  my  position  was  indeed  critical.  But 
he  also  and  very  clearly  recognized  a  new  device  of  the 
enemy  to  bring  about  my  destruction.  The  information 
filed  against  me  stated  that  I  had  remained  in  the  service 
of  the  Commune  to  the  last  moment ;  that  I  had  been 
seen  behind  a  barricade  with  a  gun  in  my  hand ;  and  that 
I  had  formed  one  of  a  band  of  vile  incendiaries.  Thia 
infamous  scheme  had  evidently  been  suggested  by  my  re> 
lations  with  my  Batignolles  friend,  who  was  still  more  ter 
ribly  compromised  than  she  thought,  poor  girl,  her  colonel 
having  been  captured,  and  convicted  of  pillage  and  mur 
der,  and  herself  charged  with  complicity.  Isolated  as  I 
was,  without  resources,  and  without  relatives,  I  would  cer- 
tainly have  perished,  but  for  the  devoted  efforts  of  my 
friend  the  commissary,  whose  official  position  gave  hini 
access  everywhere,  and  enabled  him  to  reach  my  judges, 
He  succeeded  in  demonstrating  my  entire  innocence  ;  and 
after  forty-eight  hours'  detention^  which  seemed  an  age  to 


204 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


me,  I  was  set  at  liberty.  At  the  door  I  found  the  man 
who  had  just  saved  me.  He  was  waiting  for  me,  but 
would  not  suffer  me  to  express  the  gratitude  with  which 
my  heart  overflowed.  '  You  shall  thank  me,'  he  said 
when  I  deserve  it  better,  I  have  done  nothing  as  yet  that 
any  honest  man  wouldn't  have  done  in  my  place.  What  I 
wish  is  to  discover  what  interests  you  are  threatening  with- 
out knowing  it,  and  which  must  be  considerable,  if  I  may 
judge  by  the  passion  and  the  tenacity  of  those  who  are 
pursuing  you.  What  I  desire  to  do  is  to  lay  hands  upon 
the  cowardly  rascals  in  whose  way  you  seem  to  stand.'  I 
shook  my  head.  *  You  will  not  succeed,'  I  said  to  him. 
'  Who  knows  ?  I've  done  harder  things  than  that  in  my 
life.'  And,  taking  a  large  envelope  from  his  pocket, 
'This,'  he  said,  *  is  the  letter  which  caused  your  arrest. 
I  have  examined  it  attentively,  and  I  am  certain  that  the 
handwriting  is  not  disguised.  That's  something  to  start 
with,  and  may  enable  me  to  verify  any  suspicions  which 
may  occur  to  my  mind.  In  the  meantime,  return  quietly 
to  Paris,  resume  your  ordinary  occupations,  answer  vaguely 
any  questions  that  may  be  asked  about  this  matter,  and, 
above  all,  never  mention  my  name.  Remain  at  the  Hotel 
des  Folies :  it  is  in  my  district,  in  my  legitimate  sphere  ot 
action ;  besides,  the  proprietors  are  in  such  a  position  that 
they  dare  not  disobey  my  orders.  Never  come  to  my 
office  unless  something  grave  and  unforseen  should  occur. 
Our  chances  of  success  would  be  seriously  compromised  if 
any  one  suspected  the  interest  I  take  in  your  welfare. 
Keep  your  eyes  open  on  everything  that  is  going  on 
around  you,  and  if  you  notice  anything  suspicious  write  to 
me.  I  will  myself  organize  a  secret  surveillance  around 
you.  If  I  can  bag  one  of  those  rascals  who  are  watching 
you,  I  wdll  make  him  tell  me  who  employs  him.  And  now,' 
added  this  worthy  man,  *  good-byo  Patience  and  courage.' 
Unfortunately,  he  had  not  thought  of  offering  me  a  little 
money ;  I  had  not  dared  to  ask  him  for  any,  and  I  had 
but  eight  sous  left.  It  was  on  foot,  therefore,  that  I  was 
compelled  to  return  to  Paris.  Madame  Fortin  received 
me  with  open  arms.  With  me  returned  the  hope  of  recov- 
ering the  hundred  and  odd  francs  which  I  owed  her,  and 
which  she  had  given  up  for  lost.  Moreover  she  had  ex- 
cellent news  for  me.  M.  Van  Klopen  had  sent  for  me 
during  my  absence,  requesting  me  to  call  at  his  work' 


OTHER  PEOPLKS  MONEY, 


205 


iooms.  Tired  as  I  was,  I  went  to  see  him  at  once.  1 
found  him  very  much  downcast  by  the  poor  prospects  of 
business.  Still  he  was  determined  to  go  on,  and  offered 
to  employ  me,  not  as  workwoman,  as  heretofore,  but  to  try 
on  garments  for  customers,  at  a  salary  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty  francs  a  month.  I  was  not  in  a  position  to  be  very 
particular.  I  accepted ;  and  I  am  there  still.  Every 
morning  when  I  arrive  I  take  off  this  simple  costume,  and 
I  put  on  a  sort  of  livery  that  belongs  to  M.  Van  Klopen — 
ample  skirts,  and  a  black  silk  dress.  Then,  whenever  a 
customer  comes  who  wants  a  cloak,  a  mantle,  or  some 
other  garment,  I  step  up  and  put  it  on,  that  the  purchaser 
may  see  how  it  looks.  I  have  to  walk,  to  turn  around,  sit 
down,  &c.  It  is  absurdly  ridiculous,  often  humiliating; 
and  many  a  time,  during  the  first  days,  I  felt  tempted  to 
give  back  to  M.  Van  Klopen  his  black  silk  dress.  But 
the  conjectures  of  my  friend  the  commissary  were  con- 
stantly agitating  my  brain.  Since  I  thought  he  had  discov- 
ered a  mystery  in  my  existence,  I  indulged  in  all  sorts  of 
fancies,  and  was  momentarily  expecting  some  extraordinary 
occurrence,  some  compensation  of  destiny.  And  I  re- 
mained.   But  I  was  not  yet  at  the  end  of  my  troubles.'* 

Since  she  had  been  speaking  of  M.  Van  Klopen,  Made- 
moiselle Lucienne  seemed  to  have  lost  her  tone  of  haughty 
assurance  and  imperturbable  coolness ;  and  it  was  with  a 
look  of  mingled  confusion  and  sadness  that  she  continued  ; 

What  I  was  doing  at  Van  Klopen's  was  exceedingly 
painful  to  me  ;  and  yet  he  very  soon  asked  me  to  do 
something  more  painful  still.  Gradually  Paris  was  filling 
again.  The  hotels  had  re-opened  ;  foreigners  were  pour- 
ing in ;  and  the  Bois  Boulogne  was  partly  resuming  its 
wonted  animation.  Still,  but  few  orders  came  in,  and 
those  for  dresses  of  the  utmost  simplicity,  of  dark  colour 
and  plain  material,  on  which  it  was  hard  to  make  twenty- 
five  per  cent  profit.  Van  Klopen  was  disconsolate.  He 
kept  speaking  to  me  of  the  good  old  days,  when  some  of 
his  customers  spent  as  much  as  thirty  thousand  francs  a 
month  for  dresses  and  trifles,  until  one  day,  '  You  are  the 
only  one/  he  said  to  me,  ^  who  can  help  me  just  now. 
You  are  really  good  looking ;  and  I  am  sure  that  in  full 
dress,  reclining  on  the  cushions  of  a  handsome  carriage, 
you  would  create  quite  a  sensation,  and  that  all  the  rest  of 
the  women  would  be  jealous  of  you,  and  would  wish  to 


206 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


look  like  you.  There  needs  but  one,  you  know,  to  glve^a 
good  example.' 

Maxence  started  up  suddenly,  and  striking  his  forehead 
with  his  hand,    Ah,  I  understand  now  ! ''  he  exclaimed. 

I  thought  that  Van  Klopen  was  jesting,"  went  on  the 
young  girl.  "  But  he  had  never  been  more  in  earnest ; 
and,  to  prove  it,  he  commenced  explaining  to  me  what  he 
wanted.  He  proposed  to  make  up  for  me  some  of  those 
costumes  which  are  sure  to  attract  attention  ;  and  two  or 
three  times  a  week  he  would  send  me  a  fine  carriage,  and 
I  would  go  and  show  myself  in  the  Bois.  I  felt  disgusted 
at  the  proposition.  ^  Never  ! '  I  said.  '  Why  not  ? '  *  Be- 
cause I  respect  myself  too  much  to  become  a  living  adver- 
tisement.' He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  'You  are  wrong,' 
he  said.  '  You  are  not  rich,  and  I  would  give  you  twenty 
francs  each  time.  At  the  rate  of  eight  rides  a  month,  it 
would  be  one  hundred  and  sixty  francs  added  to  your 
wages.  Besides,'  he  added  with  a  wink,  '  it  would  be  an 
excellent  opportunity  for  you  to  make  your  fortune.  Pretty 
as  you  are,  who  knows  but  what  some  millionnaire  might 
take  a  fancy  to  you  ! '  I  felt  indignant.  '  For  that  rea- 
son alone,  if  for  no  other,'  I  exclaimed,  '  I  refuse.'  '  You 
are  a  little  fool,'  he  replied.  '  If  you  do  not  accept,  you 
will  cease  belonging  to  my  establishment.  Therefore  you 
had  better  reflect ! '  My  mind  was  already  made  up,  and 
I  was  thinking  of  looking  out  for  some  other  employment 
when  I  received  a  note  from  my  friend  the  commissary, 
requesting  me  to  call  at  his  office.  I  did  so,  and,  after 
kindly  inviting  me  to  a  seat,  '  Well,'  he  asked,  '  what  is 
there  new  ? '  '  Nothing.  I  have  noticed  no  one  watching 
me.'  He  looked  annoyed.  '  My  agents  have  not  detected 
anything  either,'  he  grumbled.  And  yet  it  is  evident  that 
your  enemies  cannot  have  given  it  up  yet.  They  are 
sharp  fellows :  if  they  keep  quiet,  it  is  because  they  are 
preparing  some  new  trick.  What  it  is  I  must  and  shall 
find  out.  Already  I  have  an  idea  which  would  be  an  ex- 
cellent one  if  I  could  discover  some  way  of  introducing 
you  among  what  is  called  good  society.'  I  explained  to 
him,  that  being  employed  at  Van  Klopen's  I  had  an  op- 
portunity oi  seeing  there  many  ladies  of  the  best  society. 
'That  is  not  enough,' he  said.  Then  M.  Van  Klopen's 
propositions  came  back  to  my  mind,  and  I  told  him  of 
them.    '  Just  the  thing  ! '  he  exclaimed,  starting  up  in  his 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


207 


chair,  '  and  a  manifest  proof  that  luck  is  with  us.  You 
must  accept.'  I  felt  bound  to  tell  him  my  objections, 
which  reflection  had  much  increased.  '  I  know  but  too 
well,'  I  said,  ^  what  must  happen  if  I  accept  this  odious 
employment.  Before  I  have  been  four  times  to  the  Bois, 
I  shall  be  noticed ;  and  every  one  will  imagine  that  they 
know  for  what  purpose  I  come  there.  I  shall  be  assailed 
with  vile  offers.  True,  I  have  no  fears  for  myself.  I 
shall  be  better  guarded  by  my  pride  than  by  the  most 
watchful  of  parents.  But  my  reputation  will  be  lost.'  I 
failed  to  convince  him.  '  I  know  very  well  that  you  are  a 
good  and  virtuous  girl,'  he  said  to  me  ;  '  but,  for  that  very 
reason,  what  do  you  care  for  the  thoughts  of  all  these 
people  whom  you  do  not  know  ?  Your  future  is  at  stake, 
I  repeat  it,  you  must  accept.'  ^  If  you  command  me  to  do 
so,'  I  said.  '  Yes,  I  command  you  ;  and  I  will  explain  to 
you  why.'  " 

For  the  first  time.  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  manifested 
some  reticence,  and  omitted  to  repeat  the  commissary's 
explanations.  And  after  a  few  moments'  pause,  **Yoa 
know  the  rest,  neighbour,"  she  said,  "  since  you  have  seen 
me  yourself  in  that  inept  and  ridiculous  character  of  a  living 
advertisement,  of  a  fashionable  lay-figure ;  and  the  result 
has  been  just  as  I  expected.  Can  you  find  any  one  who 
believes  in  my  virtue  ?  You  heard  Madame  Fortin  to-night  ? 
Yourself,  neighbour,  what  sort  of  a  woman  did  you  take 
me  for  ?  And  yet  you  should  have  noticed  something  of 
my  suffering  and  my  humiliation  the  day  that  you  were 
watching  me  so  closely  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne." 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  Maxence  with  a  start,  you 
know  ? " 

"  Have  I  not  just  told  you  that  I  always  fear  being 
watched  and  followed,  and  that  I  am  always  on  the  look- 
out ?  Yes,  I  know  that  you  tried  to  discover  the  secret  of 
my  rides." 

Maxence  tried  to  excuse  himself. 

"  Well,  never  mind,"  she  exclaimed.  "  You  wish  to  be 
my  friend,  you  say  ?  Now  that  you  know  my  whole  life 
almost  as  well  as  I  do  myself,  reflect,  and  to-morrow  you 
will  tell  me  the  result  of  your  reflections.'* 

And  she  hurriedly  left  the  room. 


208 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


XXIX. 

For  a  minute  or  more  Maxence  remained  lost  in  astonish 
ment ;  and  when  he  recovered  his  voice  and  his  presence 
of  mind,  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  had  disappeared,  and  he 
could  hear  her  bolting  her  door  and  striking  a  match  against 
the  wall.  The  night  was  almost  ended ;  four  o'clock  had 
just  struck.  Still  he  did  not  feel  in  the  least  sleepy.  His 
head  was  heavy,  his  temples  throbbing,  his  eyes  smarting. 
Opening  his  window  he  leaned  out  to  breathe  the  morning 
air.  The  day  was  dawning  pale  and  cold.  A  furtive  and 
livid  light  glided  along  the  damp  walls  of  the  narrow  court- 
yard of  the  Hotel  des  Folies,  as  at  the  bottom  of  a  well. 
Already  arose  those  confused  noises  which  announce  the 
awakening  of  Paris,  and  above  which  can  be  heard  the  sono- 
rous rolling  of  the  market  carts,  the  loud  slamming  of  doors, 
and  the  sharp  sound  of  hurrying  steps  on  the  hard  pave- 
ment. But  soon  Maxence  felt  a  chill  coming  over  him. 
He  closed  the  window,  threw  some  more  wood  on  the  fire,  and 
stretched  himself  on  his  chair,  his  feet  toward  the  blaze. 
It  was  a  most  serious  event  which  had  just  occurred  in  his 
existence  ;  and  as  much  as  he  could  he  endeavoured  to  meas- 
ure its  bearings,  and  to  calculate  its  consequences  in  the 
future.  He  kept  thinking  of  the  story  of  that  strange 
girl,  her  haughty  frankness  when  unrolling  certain  phases 
of  her  wonderful  impassibility,  and  of  the  implacable 
contempt  for  humanity  which  her  every  w^ord  betrayed. 
Where  had  she  learned  that  dignity,  so  simple  and  so 
noble,  that  measured  speech,  that  admirable  respect  of 
herself,  which  had  enabled  her  to  pass  through  so  much 
filth  without  receiving  a  stain  ?  What  a  woman ! "  he 
thought. 

Before  knowing  her,  he  loved  her.  Now  he  was  con- 
vulsed by  one  of  those  exclusive  passions  which  master 
the  whole  being.  Already  he  felt  himsv^lf  so  much  under 
the  charm,  subjugated,  dominated,  fascinated ;  he  under- 
stood so  well  that  he  was  going  to  cease  being  his  own 
master ;  that  his  free  will  was  about  escaping  from  him ; 
that  he  would  be  in  Mademoiselle  Lucienne's  hands  like 
wax  under  the  modeller's  fingers  ;  he  saw  himself  so 
thoroughly  at  the  discretion  of  an  energy  superior  to  his 
own  that  he  was  almost  frightened.    "  It  is  my  whole  future 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY,  209 

that  I  am  going  to  risk,"  he  thought.  And  there  was  no 
middle  path.  Either  he  must  fly  at  once,  without  waiting 
for  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  to  awake,  fly  without  looking 
behind,  or  else  stay  and  then  accept  all  the  chances  of  an 
incurable  passion  for  a  woman  who,  perhaps,  might  never 
love  him.  And  he  remained  wavering  like  the  traveller 
who  himself  at  the  intersection  of  two  roads,  and  knowing 
that  one  leads  to  the  goal  and  the  other  to  an  abyss,  hesi- 
tates which  to  take.  With  this  difference,  however,  that  if 
the  traveller  errs,  and  discovers  his  error,  he  is  always  free 
to  retrace  his  steps  ;  whereas  man,  in  life,  can  never  return 
to  his  starting-point.  Every  step  he  takes  is  final ;  and  if 
he  has  erred,  if  he  has  taken  the  fatal  road,  there  is  no 
remedy.  Well,  no  matter  ?  "  exclaimed  Maxence.  "  It 
shall  not  be  said  that  through  cowardice  I  have  allowed 
that  happiness  to  escape  which  passes  within  my  reach.  I 
shall  stay."  And  at  once  he  began  to  examine  what  he 
might  reasonably  expect ;  for  there  was  no  mistaking 
Mademoiselle  Lucienne's  intentions.  When  she  said, 
"  Do  you  wish  to  be  friends  ?  "  she  had  meant  exactly  that, 
and  nothing  else — friends,  and  only  friends.  And  yet," 
thought  Maxence,  "  If  I  had  not  inspired  her  with  a  real 
interest,  would  she  have  so  wholly  confided  in  me  ?  She 
is  not  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  I  love  her  ;  and  she  knows 
life  too  well  to  suppose  that  I  shall  cease  to  love  her  when 
she  has  allowed  me  a  certain  amount  of  intimacy."  His 
heart  filled  with  hope  at  the  idea.  "  My  mistress,"  he 
thought,  "  never,  evidently.  But  my  wife  ?  Why  not  ?  " 
The  next  moment,  however,  he  became  a  prey  to  the  bitter- 
est discouragement.  He  thought  that  perhaps  Mademoi- 
selle Lucienne  might  have  some  special  interest  in  thus 
making  a  confidant  of  him.  She  had  not  told  him  the  ex- 
planations given  her  by  the  police  oflicer.  She  had, 
perhaps,  succeeded  in  lifting  a  corner  of  the  veil  which  hid 
the  secret  of  her  birth  !  Was  she  on  the  track  of  her 
enemies  ?  and  had  she  discovered  the  motive  of  their  ani- 
mosity ?  "  Is  it  possible,"  asked  Maxence  of  himself, 
that  I  am  but  one  of  the  pawns  in  the  game  she  is  play- 
ing ?  How  do  I  know  that,  if  she  wins,  she  will  not  cast 
me  off  ? " 

In  the  midst  of  these  thoughts,  he  had  gradually  fallen 
asleep,  murmuring  to  the  last  the  name  of  Lucienne.  The 
creaking  of  his  door  opening  woke  him  up  suddenly.  He 
14 


210 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


Started  to  his  feet,  and  perceived  Mademoiselle  Lucienne 
coming  in.  How  is  this  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Have  you  not 
been  to  bed  ?  " 

"  You  advised  me  to  reflect,"  he  replied,  "  and  I  have 
been  reflecting."  He  looked  at  his  watch  ;  it  was  twelve 
o'clock.  However,"  he  added,  it  did  not  apparently 
keep  me  from  going  to  sleep."  All  the  doubts  that  besieged 
him  at  the  moment  when  he  had  been  overcome  by  sleep 
now  came  back  to  his  mind  with  painful  vividness.  And 
not  only  have  I  been  sleeping,"  he  went  on,  but  I  have 
been  dreaming  also." 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  fixed  her  large  black  eyes  upon 
him.       Can  you  tell  me  your  dream  1  "  she  asked 

He  hesitated.  Had  he  had  but  one  minute  to  reflect, 
perhaps  he  would  not  have  spoken  ;  but  he  was  taken  un* 
awares.  "  I  dreamt,"  he  replied,  that  we  were  friends  in 
the  noblest  and  purest  acceptation  of  that  word.  Intelli- 
gence, heart,  will,  I  laid  everything  at  your  feet.  You 
accepted  the  most  entire,  the  most  respectful,  and  the 
most  tender  devotion  that  man  is  capable  of.  Yes,  we 
were  friends  indeed ;  and  upon  a  vague  hope,  never  ex- 
pressed, I  planned  a  whole  future  of  happiness."  He 
stopped. 

Well  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Well,  when  my  hopes  seemed  on  the  point  of  being 
realized,  it  happened  that  the  mystery  of  your  birth  was 
suddenly  revealed  to  you.  You  belonged  to  a  family 
noble,  powerful,  and  wealthy.  You  resumed  the  illustrious 
name  of  which  you  had  been  robbed ;  your  enemies  were 
crushed  and  your  rights  were  restored  to  you.  It  was  no 
longer  Van  Klopen's  hired  carriage  that  stopped  in  front 
of  the  Hotel  des  Folies,  but  a  carriage  bearing  a  gorgeous 
coat-of-arms.  That  carriage  was  yours,  and  it  came  to 
take  you  to  your  own  residence  in  the  Faubourg  Sto  Ger- 
main, or  to  your  ancestral  chateau." 

And  yourself   "  inquired  the  young  girl. 

Maxence  repressed  one  of  those  nervous  spasms  which 
frequently  break  out  in  tears,  and  with  a  gloomy  look,  I," 
he  answered,  "  standing  on  the  edge  of  the  pavement,  I 
waited  for  a  word  or  a  look  from  you.  You  had  forgotten 
my  very  existence.  Your  coachman  whipped  his  horses  ; 
they  started  at  a  gallop ;  and  soon  I  lost  sight  of  you 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


And  then  a  voice,  the  inexorable  voice  of  stern  reality,  cried 
to  me,  *  You  will  never  see  her  again  ! ' 

Lucienne  drew  herself  up  proudly.  "  It  is  not  with  your 
heart,  I  trust,  that  you  judge  me,  M.  Maxence  Favoral," 
she  exclaimed. 

He  tiembled,  lest  he  had  offended  her.  I  beseech  you—" 
he  began. 

But  she  continued  in  a  voice  vibrating  with  emotion. 
"  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  basely  deny  their  past.  Your 
dream  will  never  be  realized.  Those  things  are  only  seen 
on  the  stage.  If  it  did  realize  itself,  however,  if  the  car- 
riage with  the  coat-of-arms  did  come  to  the  door,  the 
companion  of  my  evil  days,  the  friend  who  offered  me  his 
month's  salary  to  pay  my  debt,  would  have  a  seat  by  my 
side." 

This  was  m.ore  happiness  than  Maxence  had  dared  to 
hope  for.  He  tried,  in  order  to  express  his  gratitude,  to 
iind  some  of  those  words  which  always  seem  to  be  lacking 
at  the  most  critical  moments.  But  he  was  suffocating ; 
and  the  tears,  accumulated  by  so  many  successive  emo- 
tions, were  filling  his  eyes.  With  a  passionate  impulse  he 
seized  Lucienne's  hand,  and  raising  it  to  his  lips  he  cover- 
ed it  with  kisses.  Gently  but  resolutely  she  withdrew  it, 
and  fixing  upon  him  her  beautiful  clear  gaze,  "  Friends," 
she  said.  Her  accent  alone  would  have  been  sufficient  to 
dissipate  Maxence's  presumptuous  illusions  had  he  had 
any.    But  he  had  none. 

"  Friends  only,"  he  replied,  "  until  the  day  when  you 
shall  be  my  wife.    You  cannot  forbid  me  to  hope.  You 
love  no  one  t  " 
No  one." 

Well,  since  we  are  going  to  tread  the  path  of  life  side 
by  side,  let  me  hope  that  we  may  find  love  at  some  turn 
of  the  road."  She  made  no  answer.  And  thus  was 
sealed  between  them  a  treaty  of  friendship,  to  which  they 
were  to  remain  so  strictly  faithful,  that  the  word  "  love  " 
never  once  rose  to  their  lips. 

In  appearance  there  was  no  change  in  their  mode  of  life. 
Every  morning  at  seven  o'clock  Mademoiselle  Lucienne 
went  to  M.  Van  Klopen's,  and  an  hour  later  Maxence 
started  for  his  office.  They  met  again  after  the  day's 
work,  and  as  it  was  winter-time,  they  spent  their  evenings 


212 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


together  by  the  fireside.  But  what  was  easy  to  foresee  now 
took  place. 

Weak  and  undecided  by  nature,  Maxence  began  very 
soon  to  feel  the  influence  of  the  obstinate  and  energetic 
character  of  the  girl.  She  infused,  as  it  were  in  his  veins 
a  warmer  and  more  generous  blood.  Gradually  she  im- 
bued  him  with  her  ideas,  and  from  her  own  will  gave  him 
one.  He  had  told  her  in  all  sincerity  his  history,  the 
miseries  of  his  home,  M.  Favoral's  parsimony  and  exag- 
gerated severity,  his  mother's  resigned  timidity,  and 
Gilberte's  resolute  nature.  He  had  concealed  nothing  of 
his  past  life,  of  his  errors  and  his  follies,  confessing  even 
the  worst  of  his  actions ;  as,  for  instance,  having  abused 
his  mother's  and  sister's  affection  to  extort  from  them  all 
the  money  they  earned.  He  had  admitted  to  her  that  it 
was  only  with  great  reluctance,  and  under  pressure  of 
necessity,  that  he  worked  at  all ;  that  he  was  far  from  be- 
ing rich ;  that  although  he  took  his  dinner  with  his  parents, , 
his  salary  barely  sufficed  for  his  wants  ;  and  that  he  had 
debts.  He  hoped,  however,  he  added,  that  it  would  not 
be  always  thus,  and  that,  sooner  or  later,  he  would 
see  the  term  of  all  this  misery  and  privation  ;  for  his  fa- 
ther had  at  least  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year,  and  some 
day  he  must  be  rich. 

Far  from  smiling,  Lucienne  frowned  at  such  a  prospect. 
"  Ah  !  your  father  is  a  millionnaire,  is  he,- '  she  interrupted. 
"  Well,  I  understand  now  how,  at  twenty-five,  after  refus- 
ing all  the  positions  which  have  been  offered  to  you,  you 
have  no  position.  You  relied  on  your  father  instead  of 
relying  on  yourself.  Judging  that  he  worked  hard  enough 
for  two,  you  bravely  folded  your  arms,  waiting  for  that 
fortune  which  he  is  amassing,  and  which  you  seem  to 
consider  yours." 

This  view  of  the  case  seemed  a  little  far-fetched  to 
Maxence.  I  think,"  he  began,  "  that  when  one  is  the 
son  of  a  rich  man — " 

"  One  has  the  right  to  be  useless,  I  suppose  ? "  added 
the  young  girl. 

"  I  do  not  mean  that ;  but — " 

"There  is  no  but  about  it.  And  the  proof  that  your 
views  are  wrong  is,  that  they  have  brought  you  where  you 
are  and  deprived  you  of  your  own  free  will.  To  place  one's 
self  at  the  mercy  of  another,  be  that  other  your  own  fa- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


213 


ther,  is  always  silly ;  and  one  is  always  at  the  mercy  of 
the  man  from  whom  one  expects  money  that  one  has  not 
earned.  Your  father  would  never  have  been  so  harsh  had 
he  not  believed  that  you  could  not  do  without  him." 

He  wanted  to  argue,  she  stopped  him.  "  Do  you  wish 
the  proof  that  you  are  at  M.  Favoral's  mercy  ? she  asked. 

Very  well.    You  spoke  of  marrying  me." 
Ah,  if  you  were  willing," 

"  Very  well.   Go  and  speak  of  it  to  your  father." 

"  I  suppose — " 

"  You  don't  suppose  anything  at  all ;  you  are  perfectly 
certain  that  he  will  refuse  you  his  consent." 
I  could  do  without  it." 

"  I  admit  that  you  could.  But  do  you  know  what  he  would 
do  then  t  He  would  arrange  tilings  in  such  a  way  that  you 
would  never  get  a  centime  of  his  fortune."  Maxence  had 
never  thought  of  that.  "  Therefore,"  continued  the  young 
girl  gayly,  though  there  is  as  yet  no  question  of  mar- 
riage, learn  to  secure  your  independence,  that  is  to  say, 
the  means  of  living.    And  for  that  you  must  work." 

It  was  from  that  moment  that  Madame  Favoral  noticed 
in  her  son  the  change  that  had  surprised  her  so  much. 
Under  the  inspiration,  under  the  impulsion  of  Mademoi- 
selle Lucienne,  Maxence  had  been  suddenly  taken  with  a 
zeal  for  work,  and  a  desire  to  earn  money,  of  which  he  could 
never  formerly  have  been  suspected.  He  was  no  longer 
late  at  his  office,  and  had  not,  at  the  end  of  each  month, 
ten  or  fifteen  francs'  fines  to  pay.  Every  morning  as  soon 
as  she  was  up.  Mademoiselle  Luciem;ie  knocked  at  his  door. 
"  Come,  get  up  !  "  she  cried  to  him.  And  he  jumped  quick- 
ly out  of  bed  and  dressed,  so  that  he  might  bid  her  good- 
morning  before  she  left.  In  the  evening  the  last  mouthful 
of  his  dinner  was  hardly  swallowed  before  he  began  copying 
the  documents  which  he  procured  from  M.  Chapelain's  suc- 
cessor. And  often  he  worked  quite  late  in  the  night,  whilst 
by  his  side  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  applied  herself  to  some 
embroidery.  She  was  the  cashier  of  the  association ;  and 
she  administered  the  common  capital  with  such  skilful 
and  such  scrupulous  economy  that  Maxence  soon  suc- 
ceeded in  paying  off  his  creditors.  Do  you  know,"  she 
said  to  him  at  the  end  of  December,  "  that,  between  us,  we 
have  earned  over  six  hundred  francs  this  month  ? "  On 
S'>;ndays  only,  after  a  week  of  which  not  a  minute  had 


214 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


been  lost,  they  indulged  in  some  little  recreation.  If  the 
weather  was  not  too  bad,  they  went  out  together,  dined  in 
some  modest  restaurant,  and  finished  the  day  at  the 
theatre.  Having  thus  a  common  existence,  both  young, 
free,  and  having  their  rooms  divided  only  by  a  narrow 
passage,  it  was  difficult  that  people  should  believe  in  the 
innocence  of  their  intercourse.  The  proprietors  of  the  Ho- 
tel des  Folies  believed  nothing  of  the  kind  ;  and  they  wer^ 
not  alone  in  that  opinion. 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  having  continued  to  show  her- 
self in  the  Bois  on  the  afternoons  when  the  weather  was 
fine,  the  number  of  fools  who  annoyed  her  with  tneir  atten- 
tions had  greatly  increased.  Among  the  most  obstinate 
Avas  M.  Costeclar,  who  was  pleased  to  declare,  upon  his 
word  of  honour,  that  he  had  lost  his  sleep,  and  his  taste  for 
business,  smce  the  day  when,  together  with  M.  Saint- 
Pavin,  he  had  first  seen  her.  The  efforts  of  his  valet,  and 
the  letters  which  he  had  written,  having  proved  useless, 
M.  Costeclar  made  up  his  mind  to  act  in  person;  and  he 
gallantly  posted  himself  on  guard  in  front  of  the  Hotel  des 
Folies.  Great  was  his  surprise  when  he  saw  Mademoiselle 
Lucienne  come  out  arm-in-arm  with  Maxence  ;  and  greater 
still  was  his  spite.  "  That  girJ  is  a  fool,"  he  thought,  "  to 
prefer  to  me  a  fellow  who  has  not  two  hundred  francs  a 
month  to  spend.  But  never  mind !  He  laughs  best  who 
laughs  last."  And,  as  he  was  a  man  fertile  in  expedients,  he 
went  the  next  day  to  take  a  stroll  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  Mutual  Credit  Bank ;  and,  having  met  M.  Favoral  by 
chance,  he  told  him  how  his  son  Maxence  was  ruining 
himself  for  a  young  lady  whose  dresses  were  a  scandal,  in- 
sinuating delicately  that  it  was  his  duty,  as  the  head  of  the 
family,  to  put  a  stop  to  such  a  thing. 

This  was  precisely  the  time  when  Maxence  was  endeav- 
ouring to  obtain  a  situation  in  the  office  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank.  It  is  true  that  the  idea  did  not  originate 
with  him,  and  that  he  had  even  vehemently  rejected  it, 
when,  for  the  first  time.  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  had  made 
the  suggestion.  "  What !  "  had  he  exclaimed,  "  be  em- 
ployed in  the  same  establishment  as  my  father  ?  Suffer  at 
the  office  the  same  intolerable  despotism  as  at  home  ?  I 
would  rather  break  stones  on  the  roads."  But  Lucienne 
was  not  the  girl  to  give  up  so  easily  a  project  conceived 
and  carefully  matured  by  herself.    She  returned  to  tha 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


215 


charge  with  that  infinite  art  of  women  who  understand  so 
marvellously  well  how  to  turn  a  position  which  they  can- 
not carry  in  front.  She  kept  the  matter  so  well  before 
/lim,  she  spoke  of  it  so  often  and  so  much,  on  every  occa- 
sion, and  under  all  pretexts,  that  he  ended  by  persuading 
himself  that  it  was  the  only  reasonable  and  practical  thing 
thing  he  could  do,  the  only  way  in  which  he  had  any  chance 
of  making  his  fortune ;  and  so,  one  evening,  overcoming 
his  last  hesitations,  "  I  will  speak  about  it  to  my  father,"  he 
said  to  Mademoiselle  Lucienne.  But  whether  he  had  been 
influenced  by  M.  Costeclar's  insinuations,  or  for  some 
other  reason,  M.  Favoral  had  indignantly  rejected  his 
son's  request,  saying  that  it  was  mipossible  to  trust  a 
young  man  who  was  ruining  himself  for  the  sake  of  a  miser- 
able creature.  Maxence  became  crimson  with  rage  on 
hearing  thus  spoken  of  the  woman  whom  he  loved  to 
madness,  and  who,  far  from  ruining  him,  was  saving 
him. 

He  returned  to  the  Hotel  des  Folies  in  an  indescribable 
state  of  exasperation.  There's  the  result,''  he  said  to 
Mademoiselle  Lucienne  after  relating  what  had  passed, 
"  of  the  step  you  urged  me  so  strongly  to  take." 

She  seemed  neither  surprised  nor  irritated.  "  Very 
well,"  she  replied  simply. 

But  Maxence  could  not  resign  himself  so  quietly  to 
such  a  cruel  disappointment ;  and,  not  having  the  slightest 
suspicion  of  Costeclar's  doings,  he  added :  ^'  It  is  all 
through  the  gossip  of  these  stupid  shopkeepers  who-  run 
to  see  you  every  time  you  go  out  in  the  carriage." 

The  girl  shrugged  her  shoulders  contemptuously.  "  I 
expected  it,"  she  said,  "  the  day  when  I  accepted  M.  Van 
Klopen's  offers." 

Everybody  believes  that  you  are  my  mistress.'* 
What  of  that,  since  it  is  not  so  ? " 

Maxence  did  not  dare  to  confess  that  this  was  precisely 
what  made  him  doubly  angry ;  and  he  shuddered  at  the 
thought  of  the  ridicule  that  would  certainly  be  heaped  upon 
him  if  the  true  state  of  the  case  was  known.  We  ought 
to  move,"  he  suggested. 

"  What's  the  use  ?  Wherever  we  might  go,  it  would  be 
the  same  thing.  Besides,  I  don't  want  to  leave  this  neigh' 
bourhood." 


2l6 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


"  And  I  am  too  much  your  friend  not  to  tell  you  that 
your  reputation  in  it  is  absolutely  lost." 

"  I  have  no  accounts  to  render  to  any  one." 
Except  to  your  friend  the  commissary  of  police,  how- 
ever." 

A  pale  smile  flitted  across  her  lips.  "  Ah ! "  she  ex- 
claimed, "  he  knows  the  truth." 

"  You  have  seen  him  again,  then  ?  " 

Several  times." 
"  Since  we  have  known  each  other  }  " 
"  Yes." 

"  And  you  never  told  me  anything  about  it  ? " 
"  I  did  not  think  it  necessary," 

Maxence  said  no  more  ;  but,  by  the  sharp  pang  that  he 
felt,  he  realized  how  dear  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  had  be- 
come to  him.    "  She  has  secrets  from  me,"  thought  he, 
from  me  w^ho  would  deem  it  a  crime  to  have  any  from 
her." 

What  secrets  had  she  concealed  from  him  that  she  was 
pursuing  an  object  w^hich  had  become,  as  it  were,  that  of 
her  whole  life  t  Had  she  not  told  him,  that  with  the 
assistance  of  her  friend  the  commissary,  she  hoped  te> 
penetrate  the  mystery  of  her  birth,  and  to  revenge  herself 
on  the  villians,  who,  three  times,  had  attempted  to  do 
away  with  her?  She  had  never  spoken  of  her  projects 
again  ;  but  it  was  evident  that  she  had  not  abandoned  them, 
for  she  would  at  the  same  moment  have  given  up  her 
drives  in  the  Bois,  which  were  to  her  an  abominable  tor- 
ment. But  passion  can  neither  reason  nor  discuss.  ^'  She 
mistrusts  me,  who  would  give  my  life  for  her,"  repeated 
Maxence.  And  the  idea  was  so  painful  to  him  that  he  re- 
solved to  clear  his  doubts  at  any  cost,  preferring  the 
worst  misery  to  the  anxiety  which  was  gnawing  at  his 
heart. 

So  soon  as  he  found  himself  again  alone  with  Lucienne, 
arming  himself  with  all  his  courage,  and  looking  her 
straight  in  the  eyes,  "  You  never  speak  to  me  now  of  your 
enemies  ?  "  he  said. 

She  doubtless  understood  what  was  passing  within  him. 

It's  because  I  don't  hear  anything  of  them  myself/'  she 
answered  gently. 

"  Then  you  have  given  up  your  purpose  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


217 


"  What  are  your  hopes,  then,  and  what  are  your  pros- 
pects ? " 

"  Extraordinary  as  it  may  seem  to  you,  I  must  confess 
that  I  know  nothing  about  it.  My  friend  the  commissary 
has  his  plan,  I  am  certain ;  and  he  is  following  it  with  an 
indefatigable  obstinacy.  I  am  but  an  instrument  in  his 
hands.    ^  ->ever  do  anything  without  consulting  him  ;  and 

Maxence  started  from  his  chair.  "Was  it  Ae,  then," he 
asked  in  a  tone  of  bitter  irony,  "  who  suggested  to  you  the 
idea  of  our  fraternal  association  ?  " 

A  frown  appeared  upon  the  girl's  countenance.  She 
evidently  felt  hurt  by  the  tone  of  this  species  of  interroga- 
tory. "  At  least  he  did  not  disapprove  of  it,"  she  re- 
plied. 

But  that  answer  was  just  evasive  enough  to  excite 
Maxence's  anxiety.    "  Was  it  from  him  too,"  he  went  on, 
"  that  came  the  lovely  idea  of  having  me  obtain  a  situation 
in  the  Mutual  Credit^Bank  ?  " 
Yes,  it  was  from  him." 
For  what  purpose  ?  " 

"  He  did  not  explain." 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  ?  " 

"  Because  he  requested  me  not  to  do  so." 

From  being  red  at  the  start,  Maxence  had  now  become 
very  pale.  "  And  so,"  he  resumed,  "  it  is  this  man,  this 
police-agent,  who  is  the  real  arbiter  of  my  destiny ;  and  if 
to-morrow  he  commanded  you  to  break  with  me — " 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  drew  herself  up.  Enough  !  " 
she  interrupted  in  a  brief  tone,  "  enough  !  There  is  not 
in  my  whole  existence  a  single  act  which  would  give  to  my 
bitterest  enemy  the  right  to  suspect  my  loyalty  ;  and  now 
you  accuse  me  of  the  basest  treason.  What  have  you  to 
reproach  me  with  ?  Have  I  not  been  faithful  to  the  pact 
sworn  between  us.  Have  I  not  always  been  for  you  the 
best  of  comrades  and  the  most  devoted  of  friends  1  I 
kept  silence  because  the  man  in  whom  I  have  the  fullest 
confidence  requested  me  to  do  so ;  but  he  knew,  that,  if 
you  questioned  me,  I  would  speak ;  I  told  him  so.  Did 
you  question  me  ?  And  now  what  more  do  you  want  ? 
That  I  should  stoop  to  quiet  the  suspicions  of  your  mor- 
bid mind     That  I  will  never  do." 

She  was  not,  perhaps,  entirely  right ;  but  Maxence  was 


2l8 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


certainly  wrong.  He  acknowledged  it,  wept,  implored  hei 
pardon,  which  was  granted,  and  this  explanation  only  served 
to  rivet  more  closely  the  fetters  that  bound  him.  It  is 
true,  that,  availing  himself  of  the  permission  that  had  been 
granted  him,  he  kept  himself  constantly  informed  of  Made^ 
moiselle  Lucienne's  doings.  He  learnt  from  her  that  her 
friend  the  commissary  had  held  a  most  minute  investiga 
tion  at  Louveciennes,  and  that  the  footman  who  went  to 
the  Bois  with  her  now  was  in  reality  a  detective.  And  at 
last,  one  day,  she  said :  "  My  friend  the  commissary 
thinks  he  is  on  the  right  track  now/' 


XXX. 

Such  was  the  exact  situation  of  Maxence  and  Lucienne 
on  that  eventful  Saturday  evening  in  the  month  of  April, 
1872,  when  the  police  came  to  arrest  M.  Vincent  Favoral 
on  the  charge  of  embezzlement  and  forgery.  It  will  be 
remembered  how,  at  his  mother's  request,  Maxence  had 
spent  the  night  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  and  how  the  next 
morning,  unable  any  longer  to  resist  his  eager  desire  to  see 
Mademoiselle  Lucienne,  he  had  started  for  the  Hotel  des 
Folies,  leaving  his  sister  alone  at  home.  He  retired  to 
his  room,  and,  sinking  into  his  arm-chair  in  a  fit  of  the 
deepest  distress.  What  will  Lucienne  say,''  thought 
Maxence,  when  she  learns  "  the  horrible  truth  ? "  And 
he  felt  a  cold  perspiration  on  his  forehead  when  he  remem- 
bered her  pride,  and  that  honour  was  her  only  faith,  the 
safety-plank  to  which  she  had  desperately  clung  in  the 
midst  of  the  storms  of  her  life.  What  if  she  should  leave 
him  now  that  the  name  he  bore  was  disgraced ! 

A  rapid  and  light  step  on  the  landing  chased  away  his 
gloomy  thoughts.  Almost  immediately  the  door  opened, 
and  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  appeared.  She  must  have 
dressed  in  haste,  for  she  was  just  finishing  hooking  her 
dress,  the  simplicity  of  which  seemed  studied,  so  marvel- 
lously did  it  set  off  the  elegance  of  her  figure,  the  slimness 
of  her  waist,  and  the  rare  perfections  of  her  shoulders  and 
of  her  neck.  A  look  of  intense  dissatisfaction  over- 
shadowed her  lovely  features  ;  but  as  soon  as  she  had 
seen  Maxence,  her  countenance  changed.  And,  in  fact, 
his  air  of  utter  distress,  the  disorder  of  his  garments,  his 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


2ig 


livid  paleness,  and  the  sinister  look  of  his  eyes,  showed 
plainly  enough  that  a  great  misfortune  had  befallen  him. 
In  a  voice  the  agitation  of  which  betrayed  something  more 
than  the  anxiety  and  the  sympathy  of  a  friend,  the  young 
girl  inquired  :  What  is  the  matter  ?  What  has  happened 
to  you  ?  " 

"A  terrible  misfortune,"  he  replied.    He  hesitated;  he 
wished  to  tell  everything  at  once,  but  knew  not  how  to 
begin.      I  have  told  you,"  he  resumed,     that  my  family 
was  very  rich." 
Yes." 

"  Well,  we  have  nothing  left,  absolutely  nothing.'' 

She  seemed  to  breath  more  freely,  and  in  a  tone  of 
friendly  irony,  "And  it  is  the  loss  of  your  fortune,"  she 
said,  "  that  distresses  you  thus  .'*" 

He  raised  himself  painfully  to  his  feet,  and  in  a  low 
hoarse  voice,      Honour  is  lost  too,"  he  uttered. 

"  Honour  t '' 

"  Y es.    My  father  has  stolen  ;  my  father  has  forged  !  " 

She  had  become  whiter  than  her  collar.  Your  father  !  " 
she  stammered. 

Yes.  For  years  he  has  been  using  the  money  that  was 
intrusted  to  him,  until  the  deficit  now  amounts  to  twelve 
millionSo" 

"  Great  heavens  !  " 

"  And,  notwithstanding  the  enormity  of  that  sum,  he  was 
reduced  during  the  latter  months  to  the  most  miserable  ex- 
pedients, going  from  door  to  door  in  the  neighbourhood, 
soliciting  deposits,  until  he  actually  basely  swindled  a  poor 
newspaper-vendor  out  of  five  hundred  francs." 

"  Why,  this  is  madness  !  And  'how  did  you  find  it  out  ?  " 

"  Last  night  they  came  to  arrest  him.  Fortunately  we 
had  been  warned ;  and  I  helped  him  to  escape  through  a 
window  of  my  sister's  room,  which  opens  on  to  the  court- 
yard of  an  adjoining  house." 

"  And  where  is  he  now  ?  " 

"  No  one  knows." 

"  Had  he  any  money  ?  " 

"  Everybody  thinks  that  he  carried  off  millions.  I  do 
not  believe  it.  He  even  refused  to  take  the  few  thousand 
francs  which  M.  de  Thaller  had  brought  him  to  facilitate 
his  flight." 


2£0 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


Lucierme  shuddered.  Did  you  see  M.  de  Thaller?" 
she  asked. 

"  He  came  to  the  house  a  few  moments  before  the  com- 
missary  of  police,  and  a  terrible  scene  took  place  between 
him  and  my  father." 
What  did  he  say  ?  " 
That  my  father  had  ruined  him." 
"  And  your  father  ? 

"  He  stammered  incoherent  phrases.  He  was  like  a  man 
who  has  received  a  stunning  blow.  But  we  have  discovered 
incredible  things.  My  father,  so  austere  and  so  parsimoni- 
ous at  home,  led  a  merry  life  elsewhere,  spending  money 
without  stint.    It  was  for  a  woman  that  he  robbed." 

"  And — do  you  know  who  that  woman  is  " 

"  No.  But  I  can  find  out  from  the  writer  of  the  article 
in  this  paper,  who  says  that  he  knows  her.    See  !  " 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  took  the  paper  which  Maxence 
offered  her ;  but  she  hardly  condescended  to  look  at  it. 
"  But  what's  your  idea  now  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  my  father  is  innocent ;  but  I  be- 
lieve that  there  are  people  more  guilty  than  he,  skilful  and 
prudent  knaves,  who  have  made  use  of  him  as  a  man  of 
straw,  villains  who  will  quietly  digest  their  share  of  the 
millions,  the  biggest  one,  of  course,  while  he  will  be  sent 
to  prison.  " 

A  fugitive  blush  coloured  Mademoiselle  Lucienne's 
cheeks.  "  That  being  the  case,"  she  interrupted,  "  what 
do  you  intend  to  do  ?  " 

"  Avenge  my  father,  if  possible,  and  deliver  to  justice 
his  accomplices,  if  he  has  any.  " 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  him.  "  That's  right,"  she  said. 
*^  But  how  will  you  set  about  it  ?  " 

I  don't  know  yet.  At  any  rate,  I  will  first  of  all  run  to 
the  newspaper  office,  and  obtain  the  woman's  address." 

But  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  stopped  him.  "  No,  "  she 
uttered,  it  isn't  there  that  you  must  go.  You  must  come 
with  me  to  see  my  friend  the  commissary." 

Maxence  received  this  suggestion  with  a  gesture  of  sur- 
prise, almost  of  terror.  Why,  how  can  you  think  of  such 
a  thing  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  My  father  is  fleeing  from  justice  ; 
and  you  want  me  to  take  for  my  confidant  a  commissary  of 
police,  the  very  man  whose  duty  it  is  to  arrest  him,  if  he 
^»an  find  him  !  "    But  he  interrupted  himself  for  a  moment, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


221 


Staring  and  gasping,  as  if  the  truth  had  suddenly  flashed 
upon  his  mind  with  dazzling  evidence.  "  For  my  father 
has  not  gone  abroad,"  he  resumed.  "  It  is  in  Paris  that 
he  is  hiding ;  I  am  sure  of  it ;  you  have  seen  him." 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  really  thought  that  Maxence  was 
losing  his  mind.    "  I  have  seen  your  father — I  !  "  she  said. 

"  Yes,  last  night.  How  could  I  have  forgotten  it  ?  While 
you  were  waiting  for  me  down  stairs,  between  eleven  and 
half-past  eleven,  a  slim,  middle-aged  man,  wearing  a  long 
overcoat,  came  and  asked  for  me. " 

"  Yes,  I  remember.  " 

"  He  spoke  to  you  in  the  court-yard. " 
That's  true.  " 

"  What  did  he  say  to  you  ?  " 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment,  evidently  trying  to  tax  her 
memory.  "  Nothing,  "  she  replied,  that  he  had  not  alreaay 
said  before  the  Fortius ;  that  he  wanted  to  see  you  on  im- 
portant business,  and  was  sorry  not  to  find  you  in.  What 
surprised  me,  though,  is  that  he  was  speaking  as  if  he  knew 
me,  and  knew  that  I  Vt^as  a  friend  of  yours.  "  Then,  strik- 
ing her  forehead,  "  Perhaps  you  are  right,  "  she  continued. 

Perhaps  that  man  was  indeed  your  father.  Wait  a  min- 
ute. Yes,  he  seemed  quite  excited,  and  at  every  moment 
he  looked  round  towards  the  door.  He  said  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  him  to  return,  but  that  he  would  write  to  you, 
and  that  probably  he  would  require  your  assistance  and 
your  services." 

"  You  see,"  exclaimed  Maxence,  excitedly,  "  it  was  my 
father.  He  is  going  to  write,  to  return,  perhaps  ;  and,  under 
the  circumstances,  to  apply  to  a  commissary  of  police  would 
be  sheer  folly,  almost  treason.  " 

She  shook  her  head.    "  So  much  the  more  reason,"  she 
said,  "  why  you  should  follow  my  advice.    Have  you  ever 
had  occasion  to  repent  doing  so  ?  " 
No  ;  but  you  may  be  mistaken." 

"  I  am  not  mistaken." 

She  expressed  herself  in  a  tone  of  such  absolute  cer* 
tainty,  that  Maxence,  in  the  disorder  of  his  mind,  was  at 
a  loss  to  know  what  to  imagine,  what  to  believe.  You 
must  have  some  reasons  to  urge  me  thus,"  he  said. 

"  I  have." 

"  Why  not  tell  them  to  me  then  ?  " 

"  Because  I  should  have  no  proofs  to  furnish  you  of  my 


222 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


assertions.  Because  I  should  have  to  go  into  details  which 
you  would  not  understand.  Because,  above  all,  I  am 
lollowing  one  of  those  inexplicable  presentiments  which 
never  deceive." 

"  Think  of  my  agony,"  Maxence  said,  "  if  I  were  to  cause 
my  father's  arrest." 

Would  my  own  be  less  ?  Can  any  misfortune  strike 
you  without  reaching  me  ?  Let  us  reason  a  little.  What 
were  you  saying  a  moment  since  ?  That  certainly  your 
father  is  not  as  guilty  as  people  think  ;  at  any  rate,  that  he 
is  not  alone  guilty  ;  that  he  has  been  but  the  instrument  of 
rascals  more  skilful  and  more  powerful  than  himself  ;  and 
that  he  has  had  but  a  small  share  of  the  twelve  millions  " 

^'  Such  is  my  conviction." 

"  And  that  you  would  like  to  deliver  up  to  justice  the 
villains  who  have  benefited  by  your  father's  crime,  and 
who  think  themselves  sure  of  impunity  ?  " 

I  would  give  anything  to  be  able  to  do  so." 

Well,  how  will  you  manage  it,  alone  as  you  are,  per- 
haps suspected  also,  without  any  one  to  advise  you,  with- 
out friends,  without  money  ?  " 

Tears  of  rage  fell  from  Maxence's  eyes.  "  Do  you  wish 
to  take  away  all  my  courage  ? "  he  murmured. 

No  ;  but  I  wish  to  prove  to  you  the  necessity  of  the 
step  which  I  advise  you  to  take.  The  end  justifies  the 
means  ;  and  we  have  not  the  choice  of  means.  Come,  it 
is  to  an  honest  man  and  a  tried  friend  that  I  shall  take 
you.  Fear  nothing.  If  he  remembers  that  he  is  a  commis- 
sary of  police,  it  will  be  to  serve  us,  not  to  injure  you. 
You  hesitate  1  Perhaps  at  this  moment  he  already  knows 
more  than  we  do  ourselves." 

Maxence  gave  way.  Very  well,"  he  said,  "  let  us 
go." 

In  less  than  five  minutes  they  were  off ;  and  as  they 
went  out,  they  had  to  disturb  Madame  Fortin,  who  stood 
at  the  door,  gossiping  with  two  or  three  of  the  neighbour- 
ing shopkeepers.  As  soon  as  Maxence  and  Mademoiselle 
Lucienne  were  out  of  hearing,  "  You  see  that  young  man," 
said  the  worthy  proprietress  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies  to  her 
friends.  "  Well,  he  is  the  son  of  that  famous  cashier  who 
bas  just  run  off  with  twelve  millions,  after  ruining  a  thou- 
sand families.  You  think  that  it  troubles  him  t  Not  at 
hII     There  he  is,  going  out  to  spend  a  pleasant  day  with 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


22% 


his  mistress,  and  to  treat  her  to  a  fine  dinner  with  the  old 
man's  money." 

Meantime,  Maxence  and  Lucienne  reached  the  commis- 
sary's house.  He  was  at  home  ;  they  walked  in,  and  as 
soon  as  they  appeared,  he  said  :  "  I  expected  you." 

He  was  a  man  already  past  middle  age,  but  still  active 
and  vigorous.  With  his  white  cravat,  his  long  frock-coat 
and  his  gaiters,  he  looked  like  a  notary.  Benign  was  the 
expression  of  his  countenance  ;  but  the  lustre  of  his  little 
grey  eyes  and  the  mobility  of  his  nostrils  showed  that  it 
should  not  be  trusted  too  far. 

"Yes,  I  expected  you,"  he  repeated,  addressing  himself 
as  much  to  Maxence  as  to  Mademoiselle  Lucienne.  "It 
is  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  matter  which  brings  you 
here  ? " 

Maxence  stepped  forward.  "  I  am  Vincent  FavoraPs 
son,  sir,"  he  said.  "  I  have  still  my  mother  and  a  sister. 
Our  situation  is  horrible.  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  sug- 
gested that  you  might  be  willing  to  give  me  some  advice  ; 
and  here  we  are." 

The  commissary  rang,  and  on  the  bell  being  answered, 
"  I  am  in  for  no  one/'  he  said.  Then  turning  to  Maxence, 
"  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  did  well  to  bring  you,"  he  said ; 
"  for  it  may  be,  that,  whilst  rendering  her  an  important 
service,  I  may  also  render  you  one.  But  I  have  no  time 
to  lose.    Sit  down  and  tell  me  all  about  it." 

With  the  most  scrupulous  exactness  Maxence  related  the 
history  of  his  family,  and  the  events  of  the  past  twenty-four 
hours.  Not  once  did  the  commissary  interrupt  him  ;  but, 
when  he  had  done,  "  Tell  me  all  that  took  place  at  your 
father's  interview  with  M.  de  Thaller  over  again,"  he  said ; 
"  and,  especially  do  not  omit  anything  that  you  heard  or 
saw,  not  a  word,  not  a  gesture,  not  a  look."  Maxence 
complied. 

"  Now,"  resumed  the  commissary,  repeat  everything 
your  father  said  at  the  moment  of  leaving." 

He  did  so.  The  commissary  took  a  few  notes^  and 
then,  " What  were,"  he  inquired,  "the  relations  of  your 
family  with  the  De  Thaller  family?  " 

"  There  were  none." 

"  What !    Neither  Madame  nor  Mademoiselle  de  Thal- 
ler ever  visited  you  ?  " 
"  Never." 


224 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  Do  you  know  the  Marquis  de  Tregars  ? 

Maxence  stared  in  surprise.  Tregars  !  "  he  repeated. 
It's  the  first  time  that  I  hear  the  name." 

The  persons  usually  having  dealings  with  the  commis 
sary  would  have  hesitated  to  recognize  him,  so  completely 
had  he  set  aside  his  professional  stiffness,  so  much  had  his 
freezing  reserve  given  way  to  the  most  encouraging  kind- 
ness.  "  Well,  then,''  he  resumed,  never  mind  M.  de  Tre- 
gars ;  but  let  us  talk  of  the  woman  who  you  seem  to  think 
has  been  the  cause  of  M.  Favoral's  ruin." 

On  the  table  before  him  lay  a  number  of  the  paper  in 
which  Maxence  had  read  in  the  morning  the  terrible  arti- 
cle headed  :  "  Another  Financial  Disaster."  "  I  know  no- 
thing of  the  woman,"  replied  Maxence ;  "  but  it  must  be 
easy  to  find  out,  since  the  writer  of  this  article  pretends  to 
know  her." 

The  commissary  smiled,  not  having  quite  as  much  faith  in 
newspapers  as  Maxence  seemed  to  have.  Yes  I  read 
that,"  he  said. 

"  We  might  send  to  the  ofHce  of  the  paper,"  suggested 
Mademoiselle  Lucienne. 

"  I  have  already  sent,  my  child."  And,  without  seeming 
to  notice  the  surprised  of  Maxence  and  the  young  girl  he 
rang  the  bell,  and  asked  whether  his  secretary  had  returned. 
The  secretary  answered  by  appearing  in  person.  "  Well  ?  " 
inquired  the  commissary. 

"  I  have  attended  to  the  matter,  sir,"  he  replied.  I 
saw  the  reporter  who  wrote  the  article  in  question ;  and 
after  beating  about  the  bush  for  some  time,  he  finally  con- 
fessed that  he  knew  nothing  more  than  had  been  published, 
and  that  he  had  obtained  his  information  from  two  in- 
timate friends  of  the  cashier,  M.  Costeclar  and  M^  Saint- 
Pavin.". 

"  You  should  have  gone  to  see  those  gentlemen." 
"  I  did." 

"  Very  well.    What  then  >  " 

"  Unfortunately,  M.  Costeclar  had  just  gone  out.  As  to 
M.  Saint-Pavin  I  found  him  at  the  ofBce  of  his  paper,  '  The 
Financial  Pilot.'  He  is  a  coarse  and  vulgar  personage, 
and  received  me  like  a  hound.    I  had  even  a  mind  to — " 

"  Never  mind  that !    Go  on." 

"  He  was  closeted  with  another  gentleman,  a  banker 
named  Jottras,  of  the  firm  of  Jottras  and  Brother.  They 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


225 


were  both  in  a  terrible  rage,  swearing  like  troopers,  and 
saying  that  the  Favoral  defalcation  would  ruin  them  ;  that 
they  had  been  taken  in  like  fools,  but  that  they  were  not 
going  to  take  things  so  easy,  and  that  they  would  write  a 
crushing  article/'  But  he  suddenly  stopped,  and  with  a 
wink  indicated  Maxence  and  Mademoiselle  Lucienne,  who 
were  listening  as  attentively  as  they  could. 

Speak,  speak  ! said  the  commissary.  "  It  is  all 
right.'' 

"Well,"  he  resumed,  "  M.  Saint-Pavin  and  M.  Jottras 
were  saying  that  M.  Favoral  was  only  a  poor  dupe,  but 
that  they  would  know  how  to  find  the  others." 
What  others  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  they  didn't  say." 

The  commissary  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  What !  "  he 
exclaimed,  "you  find  yourself  in  the  presence  of  two  men 
furious  at  having  been  duped,  who  swear  and  threaten, 
and  you  can't  even  get  from  them  a  name  that  you  want  1 
You  are  not  very  sharp  my  friend  !  "  And  as  the  poor  sec- 
retary all  out  of  countenance  looked  on  the  ground  and 
said  nothing,  "  Did  you  at  least  ask  them,"  he  inquired, 
"  who  the  woman  is  to  whom  the  article  refers,  and  whose 
existence  they  have  revealed  to  the  reporter  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  did  sir." 

"  And  what  did  they  answer  ? " 

"  That  they  were  not  spies  and  had  nothing  to  say.  M. 
Saint-Pavin  added,  however,  that  he  had  said  it  without 
much  thought,  because  he  had  once  seen  "M.  Favoral  buy- 
ing a  bracelet  worth  three  thousand  francs,  and  also  because 
it  seemed  impossible  to  him  that  a  man  should  do  away 
with  millions  without  the  aid  of  a  woman." 

The  commissary  could  not  conceal  his  ill  humour.  "  Of 
course  !  "  he  grumbled.  "  Since  Solomon  said,  '  Look  for 
the  woman,'  for  it  was  King  Solomon  who  first  said  it,  every 
fool  thinks  it  smart  to  repeat  with  a  cunning  look  that 
most  obvious  of  truths.    What  next  ?  " 

"  M.  Saint-Pavin  politely  invited  me  to  go  to — well,  not 
here." 

The  commissary  rapidly  wrote  a  few  lines,  put  them  in 
an  envelope  which  he  sealed  with  his  private  seal,  and 
handed  it  to  his  secretary  saying  :  "  That  will  do.  Take 
this  to  the  Prefecture  yourself."    And,  after  the  secretarj 


226 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


had  gone,  "Well,  M.  Maxence,"  he  said,  "you  have 
heard  ? " 

Of  course  he  had.  Only  Maxence  was  thinking  much 
less  of  what  he  had  just  heard  than  of  the  strange  interest 
this  commissary  had  taken  in  his  affairs,  even  before  he 
had  seen  him.  "  I  think/'  he  stammered,  that  it  is  very 
unfortunate  the  woman  cannot  be  found." 

With  a  gesture  full  of  confidence,  "  Be  easy,"  said  the 
commissary  ;  "  she  will  be  found.  A  woman  cannot  swal- 
low millions  at  that  rate  without  attracting  attention.  Be- 
lieve me  we  shall  find  her,  unless — "  He  paused  for  a 
moment,  and  speaking  slowly  and  emphatically,  he  added  : 
"  Unless,  she  is  backed  up  by  a  very  skilful  and  very  pru- 
dent man.  Or  is  in  such  a  position  that  her  extravagance 
has  not  created  any  scandal." 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  started.  She  fancied  she  un- 
derstood the  commissary's  thoughts,  and  could  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  truth.    "  Good  heavens  !  "  she  murmured. 

But  Maxence  didn't  notice  anything,  his  mind  being 
wholly  bent  upon  following  the  commissary's  deductions. 
"Or  unless,"  he  said,  "my  father  has  received  almost 
nothing  for  his  share  of  the  enormous  sums  embezzled 
from  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank,  in  which  case  he  can  have 
given  relatively  but  little  to  this  woman.  M.  Saint-Pavin 
himself  acknowledges  that  my  father  has  been  egregiously 
taken  in." 

"  By  whom  ?  " 

Maxence  hesitated  for  a  moment.  "  I  think,"  he  said  at 
last,  "  and  several  friends  of  my  family,  among  them  M. 
Chapelain  an  old  lawyer,  think  as  I  do,  that  it  is  very 
strange  that  my  father  should  have  stolen  millions  from  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank  without  the  manager  knowing  any- 
thing of  it." 

"  Then,  according  to  you  M.  de  Thaller  is  an  accom- 
plice ?  "  Maxence  made  no  answer.  "  Be  it  so,"  insisted 
the  commissary.  "  I  admit  M.  de  Thaller's  complicity ; 
but  then  we  must  suppose  that  he  had  over  your  father 
some  powerful  means  of  action." 

"  An  employer  always  possesses  a  great  deal  of  influence 
over  his  subordinates." 

"  An  influence  sufficiently  powerful  to  make  them  run 
the  risk  of  penal  servitude  for  his  benefit  ?  That  is  not 
likely.    You  must  try  and  imagine  something  else." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


12') 


"  I  am  trying ;  but  I  don't  find  anything." 

**And  yet  that  is  not  all.  How  do  you  explain  your 
father's  silence  when  M.  de  Thaller  was  heaping  upon  him 
the  most  outrageous  insults  1  " 

"  My  father  was  stunned,  as  it  were." 
And  at  the  moment  of  escaping,  if  he  did  have  any 
accomplices,  how  is  it  that  he  did  not  mention  their  names 
to  you,  to  your  mother,  or  to  your  sister  ?  " 

"  Because,  doubtless  he  had  no  proofs  to  offer  of  their 
complicity." 

"  Would  you.  have  asked  him  for  any  ?  " 
sir!" 

"  Therefore  such  is  not  evidently  the  motive  of  his  si- 
lence ;  and  it  might  better  be  attributed  to  some  secret 
hope  that  he  still  had  left." 

However,  the  commissary  now  had  all  the  information, 
which  voluntarily  or  otherwise,  Maxence  was  able  to  give 
him.  He  rose,  and  in  the  kindest  tone,  said  to  him  : 
"  You  came  to  ask  me  for  advice.  Here  it  is  :  Say  nothing, 
and  wait.  Allow  justice  and  the  police  to  pursue  their 
work.  Whatever  may  be  your  suspicions  hide  them.  I 
will  do  for  you  as  I  would  for  Lucienne,  whom  I  love  as  if 
she  were  my  own  child,  for  it  so  happens,  that  in  helpmg 
you  I  shall  help  her." 

He  could  not  prevent  himself  from  laughing  at  the  aston- 
ishment, which  at  those  words  depicted  itself  upon  Max- 
ence's  face ;  and  gaily  added  :  "  You  don't  understand. 
Well,  never  mind.    It  is  not  necessary  that  you  should." 


XXXI. 

Two  o'clock  struck  as  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  and 
Maxence  left  the  office  of  the  commissary  of  police,  she 
pensive  and  agitated,  he  gloomy  and  irritated.  They 
reached  the  Hotel  des  Folies  without  exchanging  a  word. 
Madame  Fortin  was  again  at  the  door,  speechifying  in  the 
midst  of  a  group  with  indefatigable  volubility.  Indeed,  it 
was  a  perfect  godsend  for  her,  the  fact  of  lodging  the  son 
of  the  cashier  who  had  stolen  twelve  millions,  and  had  thus 
suddenly  become  a  celebrity.  Seeing  Maxence  and  Made- 
moiselle Lucienne  coming,  she  stepped  towards  them,  and 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


with  her  most  obsequious  smile,  Back  already  r  she 
said. 

But  they  made  no  answer  ;  and,  entering  the  narrow 
passage  they  hurried  to  their  fourth  story.  As  he  entered 
his  room,  Maxence  threw  his  hat  upon  the  bed  with  a  ges- 
ture of  impatience ;  and,  after  walking  up  and  down  for  a 
moment,  he  returned  to  plant  himself  in  front  of  Mademoi- 
selle Lucienne.  "  Well,''  he  asked,  are  you  satisfied 
now?  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  an  air  of  profound  commisera- 
tion, knowing  his  weakness  too  well  to  be  angry  at  his  in- 
justice. "  Of  what  should  I  be  satisfied  ?  "  she  asked 
gently. 

"  1  have  done  what  you  wished  me  to  do." 

"You  did  what  reason  dictated,  my  friend." 

"  Very  well,  we  won't  quarrel  about  w  )rds.  I  have  seen 
your  friend  the  commissary.    Am  I  any  better  off  ?  " 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  almost  imperceptibly.  "  What 
did  you  expect  of  him,  then  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Did  you  think 
that  he  could  undo  what  is  done  ?  Did  you  suppose,  that 
by  the  sole  power  of  his  will,  he  would  make  up  the  deficit 
in  the  cash  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank,  and  rehabilitate 
your  father  ? " 

"No,  I  am  not  quite  mad  yet." 

"  Well,  then,  could  he  do  more  than  promise  you  his 
most  ardent  and  devoted  co-operation  ?  " 

But  he  did  not  allow  her  to  proceed.  "  And  how  do  I 
know,"  he  exclaimed,  "  that  he  is  not  trifling  with  me  ? 
If  he  was  sincere,  why  his  reticence  and  his  enigmas  ? 
He  pretends  that  I  may  rely  on  him,  because  to  serve  me 
is  to  serve  you.  What  does  that  mean  ?  What  connection 
is  there  between  your  situation  and  mine,  between  your 
enemies  and  those  of  my  father  ?  And  I — I  replied  to  all 
his  questions  like  a  simpleton.  Poor  fool !  But  the  man 
who  drowns  catches  at  straws ;  and  I  am  drowning,  I  am 
sinking,  I  am  foundering."  He  sank  upon  a  chair,  and, . 
hiding  his  face  in  his  hands,  "  Ah,  how  I  suffer  !  "  he 
groaned. 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  approached  him,  and  in  a  se- 
vere tone,  despite  her  emotion,  she  exclaimed :  "  Are  you 
then,  such  a  coward  ?  What !  at  the  first  misfortune  that 
strikes  you — and  this  is  the  first  real  misfortune  of  your 
life,  Maxence — you  despair !     An  obstacle  rises,  and 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


229 


instead  of  gathering  all  your  energy  to  overcome  it,  you  sit 
down  and  weep  like  a  woman  !  Who,  then,  is  to  inspire 
courage  in  your  mother  and  in  your  sister,  if  you  give  up 
thus  ? 

At  the  sound  of  these  words,  uttered  by  that  voice  which 
was  all-powerful  over  his  soul,  Maxence  looked  up.  "  I 
thank  you,  my  friend,''  he  said.  I  thank  you  for 
reminding  me  of  what  I  owe  to  my  mother  and  sister. 
Poor  women  !  They  are  wondering,  doubtless,  what  has 
become  of  me." 

You  must  return  to  them,"  interrupted  the  young  girl. 

He  got  up  resolutely.  "  I  will,"  he  replied.  I  should 
be  unworthy  of  you  if  I  could  not  raise  my  own  energy  to 
the  level  of  yours."  And,  having  pressed  her  hand,  he 
went  out. 

But  it  was  not  by  the  usual  route  that  he  reached  the 
Rue  St.  Gilles.  He  made  a  long  detour,  so  as  not  to  meet 
any  of  his  acquaintances.  "  Here  you  are  at  last,"  said  the 
servant  as  she  opened  the  door.  "  Madame  was  getting 
very  uneasy,  I  can  tell  you.  She  is  in  the  drawing-room 
with  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  and  M.  Chapelain." 

It  was  so.  After  his  fruitless  attempt  to  reach  M..  de 
Thaller,  M.  Chapelain  had  lunched  at  Madame  Favoral's, 
and  had  remained,  wishing,  he  said,  to  see  Maxence.  And 
as  soon  as  the  young  man  appeared,  availing  himself  of 
the  privileges  of  his  age  and  a  long  acquaintance,  he  asked 
him  :  "  How  dare  you  leave  your  mother  and  sister  alone 
in  a  house  where  some  brutal  creditor  may  come  in  at  any 
moment  ?  " 

"  I  was  wrong,"  said  Maxence,  who  preferred  to  plead 
guilty  rather  than  attempt  an  explanation. 

"  Don't  do  it  again  then,"  resumed  M.  Chapelain.  "  I  was 
waiting  for  you  to  say  that  I  was  unable  to  see  M.  de 
Thaller,  and  that  I  do  not  care  to  face  once  more  the  im- 
pudence of  his  valets.  You  will,  therefore,  have  to  take 
back  the  fifteen  thousand  francs  he  brought  your  father. 
Place  them  in  his  own  hands  mind,  and  don't  give  them 
up  without  a  receipt." 

After  some  furthur  recommendations  he  went  off,  leaving 
Madame  Favoral  alone  at  last  with  her  children.  She 
was  about  to  call  Maxence  to  account  for  his  absence, 
when  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  interrupted  her.  "  I  have  to 
speak  to  you,  mother,"  she  said  with  singular  precipita.. 


230 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


tion,  "  and  to  you  also,  brother."  And  at  once  she  began 
telling  them  of  M.  Costeclar's  strange  visit,  his  inconceiv- 
able audacity,  and  his  offensive  declarations. 

Maxence  was  fairly  stamping  with  rage.  And  I  was 
not  here,"  he  exclaimed,  "  to  kick  him  out  of  the  house  !  " 

But  another  was  there  ;  and  this  was  just  what  Made 
moiselle  Gilberte  wished  to  come  to.  But  the  avowal  was 
difficult,  painful  even  ;  and  it  was  not  without  some  degree 
of  confusion  that  she  resumed  at  last,  "  You  have  sus- 
pected for  a  long  time,  mother,  that  I  was  hiding  some- 
thing from  you.  When  you  questioned  me,  I  Hed  ;  not 
that  I  had  anything  to  blush  for,  but  because  I  feared  for 
you  my  father's  anger." 

Her  mother  and  her  brother  were  gazing  at  her  v/iih  a 
look  of  blank  amazement. 

"Yes,  I  had  a  secret,"  she  continued.  Boldly,  with- 
out consulting  any  one,  trusting  the  sole  inspirations  of  my 
heart,  I  had  engaged  my  life  to  a  stranger  ;  I  had  selected 
the  man  whose  wife  I  wished  to  be." 

Madame  Favoral  raised  her  hands  to  heaven.  "  But 
this  is  sheer  madness  !  '  she  said. 

"  Unfortunately,"  w^t  on  the  girl,  between  that  man, 
my  affianced  husband  tefore  God,  and  myself  rose  a  terri- 
ble obstacle.  He  was  poor  :  he  thought  my  father  very 
rich  ;  and  he  asked  nie  fcr  a  delay  of  three  years  to  con- 
quer a  fortune  which  might  enable  him  to  aspire  to  my 
hand."  She  stopped  ;  all  the  blood  in  her  veins  was  rush- 
ing to  her  face.  "This  morning,"  she  resumed,  "at  the 
news  of  our  disaster,  he  came — " 

"  Here  ?  "  interrupted  Maxence. 

"  Yes,  brother,  here.  He  arrived  at  the  very  moment, 
when,  basely  insulted  by  M.  Costeclar,  I  had  commanded 
him  to  withdraw,  but  who,  instead  of  going,  was  walking 
towards  me  with  outstretched  arms." 

"  He  dared  to  enter  here  ! "  murmured  Madame  Favo- 
ral. 

"  Yes,  mother,  he  came  in  just  in  time  to  seize  M.  Cos- 
teclar by  his  coat-collar,  and  to  throw  him  at  my  feet,  livid 
with  fear,  and  begging  for  mercy.  He  came,  notwith- 
standing the  terrible  calamity  that  has  befallen  us, 
notwithstanding  the  ruin  and  the  shame,  he  came  to  offer 
me  his  name,  and  to  tell  me,  that  in  the  course  of  the  day 


^1 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY.  231 

he  would  send  a  friend  of  his  family  to  apprise  you  of  his 
intentions/' 

Here  she  was  interrupted  by  the  servant,  who,  opening 
the  door,  announced  :  "  The  Count  de  Villegre." 

If  it  had  occurred  to  Madame  Favoral  or  Maxence  that 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte  might  have  been  the  victim  of 
some  base  intrigue,  the  mere  appearance  of  the  man  who 
now  entered  the  room  must  have  been  sufficient  to  dis- 
abuse them.  He  was  of  a  rather  formidable  aspect,  with 
his  military  bearing,  his  bluif  manners,  his  huge  white 
moustaches,  and  the  deep  scar  on  his  forehead.  But  in 
order  to  be  re-assured,  and  to  feel  confident,  it  was  enough 
to  look  at  his  broad  face,  at  once  energetic  and  debonair, 
his  clear  eyes,  in  which  shone  the  loyalty  of  his  soul,  and 
his  thick  red  lips,  which  had  never  opened  to  utter  an  un- 
truth. At  this  moment,  however,  he  was  hardly  himself. 
This  valiant  man,  this  old  soldier,  was  timid;  and  he 
v/ould  have  felt  much  more  at  ease  under  the  fire  of  a  bat- 
tery than  in  that  humble  drawing-room  in  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles,  under  the  uneasy  glances  of  Maxence  and  Madame 
Favoral.  Having  bowed,  he  remained  standing,  hat  in 
hand,  two  steps  from  the  door.  Eloquence  was  not  his 
forte.  He  had  learnt  his  lesson  in  advance  ;  but  though 
he  kept  coughing  and  trying  to  clear  his  throat,  the  begin- 
ning of  his  speech  stuck  there. 

Seeing  how  urgent  it  was  to  come  to  his  assistance, 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte  said  :  "  I  was  expecting  you,  sir.'' 

With  this  encouragement,  he  advanced  towards  Mad- 
ame Favoral  and  bowed  low.  I  see  that  my  presence 
surprises  you,  madame,"  he  began ;  "  and  I  must  confess 
that — hum  ! — it  does  not  surprise  me  less  than  it  does  you. 
But  extraordinary  circumstances  require  exceptional  action. 
On  any  other  occasion,  I  would  not  fall  amongst  you  like  a 
bombshell.  But  we  had  no  time  to  waste  in  ceremonious 
formalities.  I  will,  therefore,  ask  your  leave  to  introduce 
myself :  I  am  General  Count  de  Villegre.'' 

Maxence  handed  him  a  chair.  "  I  am  ready  to  hear 
you,  sir,"  said  Madame  Favoral. 

He  sat  down,  and  with  a  further  effort.  "  I  suppose, 
madame,"  he  resumed,  "  that  your  daughter  has  explained 
to  you  our  singular  situation,  which,  as  I  had  the  honour 
of  telling  you — hum  ! — is  not  strictly  in  accordance  with 
social  usage." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


Mademoiselle  Gilberte  interrupted  him.  When  you 
came  in,  count,  I  was  only  just  beginning  to  explain  the 
facts  to  my  mother  and  brother.'' 

The  old  soldier  made  a  gesture,  which  showed  plainly 
that  he  did  not  much  relish  the  prospect  of  having  to  make 
a  somewhat  difficult  explanation.  "  It  is  very  simple,'^ 
he  said ;     I  come  in  behalf  of  M.  de  Tregars." 

Maxence  fairly  bounded  upon  his  chair.  That  was  the 
very  name  which  he  had  just  heard  mentioned  by  the  com- 
missary of  police.  "  Tregars  !  "  he  repeated,  in  a  tone  of 
immense  surprise. 

"  Yes,"  said  M.  de  Villegre.  Do  you  know  him,  by 
chance  ?  " 

No,  sir,  no  !  " 

"  Marius  de  Tregars  is  the  son  of  the  most  honest  man 
I  ever  knew,  of  the  best  friend  I  ever  had,  of  the  Marquis 
de  Tregars,  in  a  word,  who  died  of  grief  a  few  years  ago, 
after — hum  ! — some  quite  inexplicable — broum  ! — reverses 
of  fortune.  Marius  could  not  be  dearer  to  me,  if  he  were 
my  own  son.  He  has  lost  his  parents,  I  have  no  relatives  ; 
and  I  have  transferred  to  him  all  the  feelings  of  affection 
which  still  remain  at  the  bottom  of  my  old  heart.  And 
I  can  say  that  never  was  a  man  more  worthy  of  affection. 
I  know  him.  To  the  most  legitimate  pride  and  the  most 
scrupulous  integrity,  he  unites  a  keen  and  supple  mind, 
and  wit  enough  to  get  the  better  of  the  toughest  rascal. 
He  has  no  fortune  for  the  reason  that — hum ! — he  gave 
up  all  he  had  to  certain  pretended  creditors  of  his  father. 
But  whenever  he  wishes  to  be  rich,  he  shall  be  ;  and — 
broum ! — he  may  be  so  before  long.  I  know  his  projects, 
his  hopes,  his  resources."  But,  as  if  feeling  that  he  was 
treading  on  dangerous  ground,  the  Count  de  Villegre 
Btopped  short,  and  after  taking  breath  for  a  momant  he 
resumed  :  "  In  short,  Marius  has  been  unable  to  see  Made- 
moiselle Gilberte,  and  to  appreciate  the  rare  qualities  of 
her  heart,  without  falling  desperately  in  love  with  her." 

Madame  Favoral  made  a  gesture  of  protest.  "  Allow 
me,  sir,"  she  began. 

But  he  interrupted  her.  "  I  understand  you,  madame," 
he  said.  "  You  wonder  how  M.  de  Tregars  can  have  seen 
your  daughter,  have  known  her,  and  have  appreciated 
her,  without  your  seeing  or  hearing  anything  of  it.  Noth* 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


233 


ing  is  more  simple,  and  if  I  may  venture  to  say — hum  ! — 
more  natural/^ 

And  the  worthy  old  soldier  began  to  explain  to  Madame 
Favoral  the  meetings  in  the  Place  Royale,  his  conversa- 
tions with  Marius,  intended  really  for  Mademoiselle  Gil- 
berte,  and  the  part  he  had  consented  to  play  in  this  little 
comedy.  But  he  became  embarrassed  in  his  sentences,  he 
multiplied  his  hums  and  his  broums  in  the  most  alarming 
manner;  and  his  explanations  explained  nothing.  Made- 
moiselle Gilberte  took  pity  on  him  ;  and  kindly  interrupt- 
ing him  she  herself  told  her  story,  and  that  of  Marius. 
She  told  of  the  pledge  they  had  exchanged,  how  they  had 
seen  each  other  twice,  and  how  they  constantly  heard  of 
each  other  through  the  very  innocent  and  very  unconscious 
Signor  Gismondo  Pulci.  Maxence  and  Madame  Favoral 
were  amazed.  They  would  have  absolutely  refused  to 
believe  such  a  story,  had  it  not  been  told  by  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte  herself.  "  Ah,  my  dear  sister !  thought  Max- 
ence, "  who  could  have  suspected  such  a  thing,  seeing  you 
always  so  calm  and  so  meek  ! "  Is  it  possible,"  Madame 
Favoral  was  saying  to  herself,  "  that  I  can  have  been  so 
blind  and  so  deaf !  "  As  to  the  Count  de  Villegre,  he 
would  have  tried  in  vain  to  express  the  gratitude  he  felt 
towards  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  for  having  spared  him 
these  difficult  explanations.  "  I  could  not  have  done  half 
as  well  myself !  "  he  thought,  like  a  man  who  has  no  illu- 
sions on  his  own  account. 

But  as  soon  as  Gilberte  had  finished  speaking  he  said 
to  Madame  Favoral : 

Now,  madame,  you  know  all ;  and  you  will  understand 
that  the  irreparable  disaster  that  strikes  you  has  removed 
the  only  obstacle  which  hitherto  stood  in  my  friend's  way.'' 
He  then  rose,  and  in  a  solemn  tone,  without  any  hum  or 
broum,  this  time,  uttered  these  words :  I  have  the  hon- 
our, madame,  to  solicit  the  hand  of  Mademoiselle  Gilberte, 
your  daughter,  for  my  friend  Yves-Marius  de  Genost, 
Marquis  de  Tregars." 

A  profound  silence  followed  his  speech.  But  this  silence 
the  Count  de  Villegre  doubtless  interpreted  in  his  own  fa- 
vour, for  he  opened  the  door  and  called,  "  Marius  ! "  Marius 
de  Tregars  had  foreseen  all  that  had  just  taken  place,  and 
had  so  informed  the  Count  de  Villegre  in  advance.  Being 
given  Madame  Favoral's  disposition,  he  knew  what  could 


«34 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


be  expected  of  her;  and  he  had  his  own  reasons  to  leai 
nothing  from  Maxence.  And  if  he  mistrusted  somewhat 
the  diplomatic  talents  of  his  ambassador,  he  relied  abso- 
lutely upon  Mademoiselle  Gilberte's  energy.  And  as  con- 
fident was  he  of  the  correctness  of  his  calculations,  that 
he  had  insisted  upon  accompanying  his  old  friend,  so  as 
to  be  on  hand  at  the  critical  moment.  When  the  servant 
opened  the  door  to  them,  he  asked  her  to  introduce  M.  de 
Villegre,  stating  that  he  would  himself  wait  in  ihe  dining- 
room.  This  arrangement  had  not  seemed  entirely  natural 
to  the  girl ;  but  so  many  strange  things  had  happened  in 
the  house  for  the  past  twenty-four  hours,  that  she  was  pre- 
pared for  anything.  Besides,  recognizing  Marius  as  the 
gentleman  who  had  had  a  violent  altercation  in  the  morn- 
ing with  M.  Costeclar,  she  did  as  he  requested,  and  leav- 
ing him  alone  in  the  dining-room,  went  to  attend  to  her 
duties.  He  had  taken  a  seat,  impassive  in  appearance,  but 
in  reality  agitated  by  that  internal  trepidation  of  which 
the  strongest  men  cannot  free  themselves  in  the  decisive 
moments  of  their  existence.  To  a  certain  extent,  the 
prospects  of  his  whole  life  were  to  be  decided  on  the  other 
side  of  the  door  which  had  just  closed  behind  the  Count 
de  Villegre.  To  the  success  of  his  love,  other  interests 
were  united  which  required  immediate  success.  And 
counting  the  seconds  by  the  beatings  of  his  heart,  How 
very  slow  they  are  !  "  he  thought.  So  when  the  door 
opened  at  last,  and  his  old  friend  called  him,  he  jumped 
to  his  feet,  and  collecting  all  his  coolness  and  self-posses- 
sion he  walked  in. 

Maxence  had  risen  to  receive  him ;  but  when  he  saw 
him  he  stepped  back  his  eyes  staring  in  utter  surprise. 
Ah,  great  heavens  ! he  muttered  in  a  smothered  voice- 
But  M.  de  Tregars  seemed  not  to  notice  his  surprise. 
Quite  self-possessed,  notwithstanding  his  emotion,  he  ex- 
amined with  a  rapid  glance  the  Count  de  Villegre,  Mad- 
ame Favoral,  and  Mademoiselle  Gilberte.    At  their  atti- 
tude, and  at  the  expression  of  their  countenance,  he  easily 
guessed  the  point  to  which  things  had  come  ;  and  advanc- 
ing towards  Madame  Favoral,  he  bowed  with  an  amount 
of  respect  which  was  certainly  not  put  on.    "  You  have 
heard  the  Count  de  Villegre,  madame,''  he  said  in  a 
slightly  altered  tone  of  voice.    "  I  am  awaiting  my  fate.'' 
The  poor  woman  had  never  before  in  her  life  been  sc 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


235 


fearfully  perplexed.  All  these  events  which  succeeded 
each  other  so  rapidly,  had  broken  the  feeble  springs  of 
her  mind.  She  was  utterly  incapable  of  collecting  her 
thoughts,  or  of  taking  a  determination.  "At  this  moment, 
sir,''  she  stammered,  taken  unawares,  it  would  be  impos- 
sible for  me  to  answer  you.  Grant  me  a  few  days  for  re- 
flection. We  have  some  old  friends  whom  I  ought  to  con- 
sult." 

But  Maxence  who  had  recovered  his  self-possession,  in- 
terrupted her.  "  Friends,  mother  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "And 
who  are  they  t  People  in  our  position  have  no  friends. 
What !  when  we  are  perishing,  a  man  of  heart  holds  out 
his  hand  to  us,  and  you  ask  for  time  to  reflect  ?  To  my 
sister  who  bears  a  name  henceforth  disgraced,  the  Mar- 
quis de  Tregars  offers  his  name,  and  you  think  of  consult- 
ing—" 

The  poor  woman  was  shaking  her  head.  "  I  am  not 
the  mistress,  my  son,"  she  murmured  ;  "  your  father — " 

"  My  father  1 "  interrupted  the  young  man,  "  my  father  ! 
What  rights  can  he  have  over  us  hereafter  ? "  And  with- 
out further  discussion,  without  awaiting  an  answer,  he  led 
his  sister  to  M.  de  Tregars  saying.  "  Ah  !  take  her,  sir. 
Never,  whatever  she  may  do,  will  she  acquit  the  debt  of 
eternal  gratitude  which  v/e  this  day  contract  towards  you." 

A  tremor  that  shook  their  frames,  a  lingering  look  which 
they  exchanged,  alone  betrayed  the  lover's  feelings.  They 
had  a  too  cruel  experience  of  life  not  to  mistrust  their  joy. 
Returning  to  Madame  Favoral,  Marius  said :  "  You  do 
not  understand,  madame,  why  1  should  have  selected  for 
such  a  step  the  very  moment  when  an  irreparable  calamity 
befalls  you.  One  word  will  explain  all :  Being  in  a  posi- 
tion to  serve  you,  I  wished  to  acquire  the  right  of  doing 
so." 

Fixing  upon  him  a  look  full  of  the  gloomiest  despair, 
"  Alas  !  "  the  poor  woman  murmured,  "  what  can  you  do 
for  me,  sir  ?  My  life  is  ended.  I  have  but  one  wish  left 
— to  know  where  my  husband  is.  It  is  not  for  me  to 
judge  him.  He  has  not  procured  me  the  happiness  which 
I  had,  perhaps,  the  right  to  expect ;  but  he  is  my  husband, 
he  is  unhappy ;  my  duty  is  to  join  him  wherever  he  may 
be,  and  to  share  his  sufferings." 

She  was  interrupted  by  the  servant  calling ;  "Madame, 
madame ! " 


236 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  What  is  the  matter  ? "  inquired  Maxence. 
1  must  speak  to  madame  at  once." 

Making  an  effort  to  rise  and  walk,  Madame  Favoral 
left  the  room.  She  was  gone  but  a  minute ;  and,  when 
she  returned,  her  agitation  had  furthur  increased.  It  is 
the  hand  of  Providence,  perhaps,"  she  said.  The  others 
were  all  looking  at  her  anxiously.  She  took  a  seat,  and, 
addressing  herself  more  especially  to  M.  de  Tregars,  she 
resumed  in  a  feeble  voice  :  This  is  what  happens.  M. 
Favoral  was  in  the  habit  of  always  changing  his  coat  as 
soon  as  he  came  home.  As  usual,  he  did  so  last  evening. 
When  they  came  to  arrest  him,  he  forgot  to  change  again, 
and  went  oif  with  the  coat  he  had  on.  The  other  remained 
hanging  in  the  room,  and  the  girl  took  it  just  now  to  brush 
it  and  put  it  away.  This  pocket-book,  which  my  husband 
always  carried  about  with  him,  fell  out  of  the  pocket." 

It  was  an  old  Russian  leather  pocket-book  which  had 
once  been  red,  but  which  time  and  use  had  turned  black. 
It  was  full  of  papers. 

"  Perhaps,  indeed,"  exclaimed  Maxence,  "  we  may  find 
some  information  here."  He  opened  it,  and  had  already 
taken  out  three-fourths  of  its  contents  without  finding  any- 
thing of  any  consequence,  when  suddenly  he  uttered  an 
exclamation.  He  had  just  unfolded  an  anonymous  note, 
evidently  written  in  a  disguised  hand,  and  at  one  glance 
had  read  :  "  I  cannot  understand  your  negligence.  You 
should  get  that  Van-Klopen  matter  over.  There  is  the 
danger." 

"  What  is  that  note  ?  "  inquired  M.  de  Tregars. 

Maxence  handed  it  to  him.  Look  !  "  said  he  ;  "  but 
you  will  not  understand  the  immense  interest  it  has  for 
me." 

But  having  read  it,  "  You  are  mistaken,"  said  Marius. 
"  I  understand  perfectly  ;  and  I'll  prove  it  to  you." 

The  next  moment  Maxence  found  in  the  pocket-book, 
and  read  aloud  the  following  bill,  dated  two  days  before. 

"  Sold  to  two  leather  trunks  with  patent  locks  at  220 

francs  each  ;  total  440  francs." 

M.  de  Tregars  started.  ''At  last,"  he  said,  "here  is 
doubtless  one  end  of  the  thread  which  will  guide  us  to 
the  truth  through  this  labyrinth  of  iniquities."  And,  lay- 
ing his  hand  on  Maxence's  shoulder,  he  added :  ^'  We 
must  talk  over  this,  and  at  length.    To-morrow,  before  you 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


go  to  M.  de  Thaller's  with  his  fifteen  thousand  francs,  call 
and  see  me,  I  shall  expect  you.  We  are  now  engaged 
upon  a  common  work  ;  and  something  tells  me,  that,  be- 
fore long,  we  shall  know  what  has  become  of  the  millions 
of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


PART  II. 

FISHING   IN   TROUBLED  WATERS. 
I. 

"When  I  think,"  said  Coleridge,  *^that  every  morning, 
in  Paris  alone,  thirty  thousand  fellows  wake  up,  and  rise  with 
the  fixed  and  settled  idea  of  appropriating  other  people's 
money,  it  is  with  renewed  wonder  that  every  night,  when  I 
reach  home,  I  find  my  purse  still  in  my  pocket." 

And  yet  it  is  not  those  who  simply  aim  to  steal  your 
purse  who  are  either  the  most  dishonest  or  the  most  formid- 
able. To  stand  at  the  corner  of  some  dark  street,  and  rush 
upon  the  first  person  who  comes  along,  demanding,  "  Your 
money,  or  your  life,"  is  but  a  poor  business,  devoid  of  all 
prestige,  and  long  since  given  up  to  chivalrous  nature.  A 
man  must  be  something  worse  than  a  simpleton  to  still  ply 
his  trade  on  the  high-roads,  exposed  to  all  sorts  of  annoy- 
ances on  the  part  of  the  police,  when  manufacturing  and 
financial  enterprises  offer  such  a  magnificently  fertile  field 
to  the  activity  of  imaginative  people.  And,  in  order  to 
thoroughly  understand  the  mode  of  proceeding  in  this  par- 
ticular field,  it  is  sufficient  to  open  from  time  to  time  a  copy 
of  the  "  Gazette  des  Tribunaux,"  and  to  read  some  trial 
like  that,  for  instance,  of  one  Lefurteux,  ex-managing-direc- 
tor of  the  "  Company  for  the  Drainage  and  Improvement 
of  the  Swamps  of  the  Department  of  the  Orne." 

This  took  place  less  than  a  month  ago,  in  one  of  the 
criminal  courts. 

The  Judge  to  the  Accused. — "  Your  profession  ? " 
M.  Lefurteux. — Managing-director  of  the  company/' 
Question. — "  Befcre  that  what  were  you  doing  ?  " 
Answer. — "  I  speculated  on  the  BoursCc" 
Q. — You  had  no  means  ? " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


239 


A. — "  Excuse  me,  I  was  making  money/' 

Q. — "  And  it  was  under  such  circumstances  that  you  had 
the  audacity  to  organize  a  company  with  a  capital  of  three 
milhons  of  francs,  divided  into  shares  of  five  hundred  francs 
each  ? " 

A. — "  Having  discovered  an  idea,  I  did  not  suppose  that 
I  was  forbidden  to  make  use  of  it." 
Q. — "What  do  you  call  an  idea?  " 

A. — "  The  idea  of  draining  swamps,  and  making  them 
productive," 

Q. — "  What  swamps  ?  Yours  never  had  any  existence, 
except  in  your  prospectus." 

A. — "  I  expected  to  buy  some  as  soon  as  my  capital  was 
paid  up," 

Q. — "  And  in  the  meantime  you  promised  ten  per  cent 
to  your  shareholders  ?  " 

A. — "  That's  the  least  that  draining  operations  ever  pay." 
Q. — "  You  have  advertised  ?  " 
A.—"  Of  course." 
Q.— "  To  what  extent  ?  " 

A. — To  the  extent  of  about  sixty  thousand  francs." 

Q. — "  Where  did  you  obtain  the  money  ?  " 

A, — "  I  commenced  with  ten  thousand  francs,  which  a 
friend  of  mine  lent  me  ;  then  I  used  the  funds  that  came  in." 

Q. — "  In  other  words,  you  made  use  of  the  money  of 
your  first  dupes  to  attract  others  ?  " 

A. — "  Many  people  thought  it  was  a  good  thing." 

Q. — "  Who  ?  Those  to  whom  you  sent  your  prospectus 
with  a  plan  of  your  fictitious  swamps  ?  " 

A. — "  Excuse  me.    Others  too." 

Q  — "  How  much  money  did  you  receive  in  all  1  " 

A. — "  About  six  hundred  thousand  francs,  as  the  expert 
has  stated." 

Q. — "  And  you  have  spent  the  whole  of  the  money  ?  " 

A. — Excuse  me,  I  have  never  applied  to  my  personal 
wants  anything  beyond  the  salary  which  was  allowed  me 
by  the  by-laws.  " 

Q. — "  How  is  it  then,  that  when  you  were  arrested  there 
were  only  found  in  your  safe  twelve  hundred  and  fifty  francs 
which  had  been  sent  you  though  the  post  that  very  morn- 
ing ?    What  has  become  of  the  rest  ?  " 

A. — The  rest  has  been  spent  for  the  good  of  the  com- 
pany." 


240 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


Q. — "  Of  course  !    You  had  a  carriage  ?  " 

A. — It  was  allowed  me  by  Article  27  of  the  by-laws." 

Q. — "  For  the  good  of  the  company  too,  I  suppose  ?  " 

A. — "  Certainly.  I  was  compelled  to  make  a  certain  dis- 
play. The  head  of  an  important  company  must  endeavour 
to  inspire  confidence." 

The  Judge  (with  an  ironical  look). — "  Was  it  also  to  in- 
spire confidence  that  you  had  a  mistress,  on  whom  you 
spent  considerable  sums  of  money  ?  " 

The  accused  (in  a  tone  of  perfect  candour). — "  Yes,  sir.'' 

After  a  pause  of  a  few  moments,  the  judge  resumes, — 

Q. — "  Your  offices  were  magnificent.  They  must  have 
cost  you  a  great  deal  to  furnish  ? '' 

A. — On  the  contrary,  sir,  almost  nothing.  The  furni- 
ture was  all  hired.    You  can  examine  the  upholsterer." 

The  upholsterer  is  sent  for,  and  in  answer  to  the  judge's 
questions,  says  :  "  What  M.  Lefurteux  has  stated  is  true. 
My  specialty  is  to  hire  office-fixtures  for  financial  and  other 
companies.  I  supply  everything,  from  the  book-keepers' 
desks  to  the  furniture  for  the  manager's  private  room  ;  from 
the  iron  safe  to  the  servants'  livery.  In  twenty-four  hours 
everything  is  ready,  and  the  subscribers  can  come.  As 
soon  as  a  company  is  organized  like  the  one  in  question,  the 
promoters  call  on  me  and,  according  to  the  magnitude  of 
the  capital  required,  I  furnish  in  a  more  or  less  costly  style. 
I  have  a  good  deal  of  experience  and  I  know  just  what's 
wanted.  When  M.  Lefurteux  came  to  see  me  I  gauged 
his  operation  at  a  glance.  Three  millions  of  capital  swamps 
in  the  Orne,  share  of  five  hundred  francs,  small  subscrib- 
ers anxious  and  noisy.  *  Very  well,'  I  said  to  him,  *  it's  a 
six  months'  job.  Don't  go  into  useless  expenses.  Have 
repp  for  your  private  office  :  it's  quite  good  enough.'  " 

The  Judge  (in  a  tone  of  profound  surprise). — You  told 
him  that  ? " 

The  Upholsterer  (in  the  simple  accents  of  an  honest 
man). — "  Exactly  as  I  am  telling  you,  sir.  He  followed 
my  advice  ;  and  I  sent  him  at  once  the  furniture  and  fix- 
tures of  the  River  Fishery  Company,  the  manager  of  which 
had  just  been  sent  to  prison  for  three  years." 

When,  after  such  revelations  renewed  from  week  to  week 
with  instructive  variations,  purchasers  are  still  found  for 
ihe  shares  of  the  Tiffila  Mines,  the  Bretoneche  Lands,  and 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


241 


the  forests  of  Formanoir,  is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank  found  numerous  supporters  ?  It  had 
been  admirably  started  at  that  propitious  hour  of  the  De- 
cember Coup  d'Etat,  when  the  first  ideas  of  mutuaUty  were 
beginning  to  penetrate  the  financial  world.  It  had  lacked 
neither  capital  nor  powerful  patronage  at  the  start,  and  had 
been  at  once  admitted  to  the  honour  of  being  quoted  at  the 
Bourse.  Beginning  business  ostensibly  as  an  accommoda- 
tion bank  for  manufacturers  and  merchants,  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank  had  had  for  a  number  of  years  a  well-deter- 
mined specialty.  But  gradually  it  had  enlarged  the  circle 
of  its  operations,  altered  its  by-laws,  changed  its  board  of 
directors ;  and  towards  the  end  the  original  shareholders 
would  have  been  not  a  little  embarrassed  to  tell  what  was 
the  nature  of  its  business  and  from  what  sources  it  drew 
its  profits.  All  they  knew  was,  that  it  always  paid  respect- 
able dividends ;  that  the  manager  M.  de  Thaller  was  per- 
sonally very  rich ;  and  that  they  could  trust  him  to  steer 
clear  of  the  criminal  courts.  There  were  some,  of  course, 
who  did  not  view  things  in  quite  so  favourable  a  light ;  who 
suggested  that  the  dividends  were  suspiciously  large ;  that 
M.  de  Thaller  spent  too  much  money  on  his  house,  his  wife, 
his  daughter,  and  his  mistresses.  One  thing  is  certain, 
that  the  shares  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  were  much 
above  par,  and  were  quoted  at  580  francs  on  that  Saturday, 
when  after  the  closing  of  the  Bourse  the  rumour  spread 
that  the  cashier,  Vincent  Favoral  had  decamped  with 
twelve  millions.  What  a  haul !  "  thought,  not  without  a 
feeling  of  envy,  more  than  one  broker  who  for  merely  one 
twelfth  of  that  amount  would  have  gaily  crossed  the  frontier. 
It  was  almost  an  event  in  Paris.  Although  such  adventures 
are  frequent  enough  and  not  taken  much  notice  of,  in  the 
present  instance  the  magnitude  of  the  amount  more  than 
made  up  for  the  vulgarity  of  the  act.  Favoral  was  gener- 
ally pronounced  a  very  smart  man ;  and  some  persons  de- 
clared that  to  take  twelve  millions  could  hardly  be  called 
stealing.  The  first  question  asked  was  :  "  Is  De  Thaller 
in  the  operation  ?  Was  he  in  collusion  with  his  cashier  ? 
If  he  was  then  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  is  better  off  than 
ever  ;  if  he  was  not,  it  is  done  for."  This  uncertainty  kept 
up  the  price  for  about  half-an-hour.  But  soon  the  most 
disastrous  news  began  to  spread,  brought,  no  one  knew 
whence  or  by  whom  ;  and  there  was  an  irresistible  panic 
16 


242 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


From  435  trancs  at  which  price  they  had  maintained  them^ 
selves  for  a  time,  the  shares  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank 
suddenly  fell  to  300,  then  200,  and  finally  to  150  francs. 
Some  friends  of  M.  de  Thaller,  M.  Costeclar,  amongst 
others  had  endeavoured  to  keep  up  the  market ;  but  they 
had  soon  recognized  the  futility  of  their  efforts,  and  then 
they  had  bravely  commenced  doing  like  the  rest. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday.  From  the  early  morning  it 
was  reported  with  the  most  circumstantial  details  that  the 
Baron  de  Thaller  had  been  arrested.  But  in  the  evening 
this  had  been  contradicted  by  people  who  had  gone  to  the 
races,  and  who  had  met  there  Madame  de  Thaller  and  her 
daughter,  more  brilliant  than  ever,  very  lively  and  very 
talkative.  To  the  persons  who  went  to  speak  to  them,  the 
baroness  said  :  "  My  husband  was  unable  to  come.  He  is 
busy  with  two  of  his  clerks  looking  over  that  poor  Fav> 
ral's  accounts.  It  seems  that  they  are  in  the  most  incon- 
ceivable confusion.  Who  would  ever  have  thought  such  a 
thing  of  a  man  who  lived  on  bread  and  nuts  t  But  he 
operated  at  the  Bourse ;  and  he  had  organized  under  a 
false  name  a  sort  of  bank  in  which  he  very  foolishly  sunk 
large  sums  of  money."  And  with  a  smile  as  if  all  danger 
had  been  luckily  averted.    "  Fortunately,''  she  added, 

the  damage  is  not  as  great  as  has  been  reported,  and 
this  time  again  we  shall  get  off  with  a  good  fright."  But 
the  baroness's  speeches  were  hardly  sufficient  to  quiet  the 
anxiety  of  the  people  who  felt  in  their  coat-pockets  the 
worthless  certificates  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  stock. 
And  the  next  day,  Monday,  as  early  as  eight  o'clock  they 
began  to  arrive  in  crowds  to  demand  of  M.  de  Thaller 
some  sort  of  an  explanation.  They  were  there  at  least  a 
hundred,  huddled  together  in  the  vestibule,  on  the  stairs 
and  on  the  first  landing,  a  prey  to  the  most  painful  emo- 
tion and  the  most  violent  excitement ;  for  they  had  been 
refused  admittance.  To  all  those  who  insisted  upon  go- 
ing in  a  tall  servant  in  livery,  standing  before  the  door 
replied  invariably  :  "  The  office  is  not  open,  M.  de  Thaller 
has  not  yet  come."  Whereupon  they  uttered  such  terri- 
ble threats  and  such  loud  imprecations  that  the  frightened 
concierge  had  run  and  hid  himself  in  the  darkest  corner  of 
his  room.  No  one  can  imagine  to  what  epileptic  contor- 
tions  the  loss  of  money  can  drive  an  assemblage  of  men, 
who  has  not  seen  a  meeting  of  shareholders  on  the  morrow 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


243 


of  a  great  disaster,  with  their  clenched  fists,  their  con- 
vulsed faces,  their  glaring  eyes  and  foaming  lips.  They 
felt  indignant  at  what  had  once  been  their  delight.  They 
laid  the  blame  of  their  ruin  upon  the  splendour  of  the 
house,  the  sumptuousness  of  the  stair-case,  the  candelabras 
of  the  vestibule,  the  carpets,  the  chairs,  everything.  "  And 
it  is  our  money  too,"  they  cried,  "that  has  paid  for  all 
this  !  "  Standing  upon  a  bench  a  little  short  man  was  excit- 
ing transports  of  indignation  by  describing  tlie  magnificence 
of  the  Baron  de  Thaller's  residence,  where  he  had  once 
had  some  dealings.  He  had  counted  five  carriages  in  the 
coach-house,  fifteen  horses  in  the  stables,  and  heaven 
knows  how  many  servants.  He  had  never  been  inside  the 
apartments,  but  he  had  seen  the  kitchens  and  he  declared 
that  he  had  been  dazzled  by  the  number  and  brightness  of 
the  saucepans  ranged  in  order  of  size  above  the  stoves. 

Gathered  in  a  group  in  the  vestibule  the  most  sensible 
deplored  their  rash  confidence.  "  That's  the  way,"  con- 
cluded one,  "with  all  these  adventurous  affairs." 

"  That's  a  fact.  There's  nothing  after  all  like  govern- 
ment bonds." 

"  Or  a  first  mortgage  on  good  property,  with  subrogation 
of  the  wife's  rights." 

But  what  exasperated  them  all  was  not  being  admitted 
to  the  presence  of  M.  de  Thaller  and  seeing  the  servant 
mounting  guard  before  the  door.  "  What  impudence," 
they  growled,  "  to  leave  us  on  the  stairs  ! — we  who  are  the 
masters  after  all." 

Who  knows  where  M.  de  Thaller  may  be  ? " 

"  He  is  hiding,  of  course  !  " 

"  No  matter,  I  will  see  him,"  clamoured  a  big  fat  man, 
with  a  brick-coloured  face,  "  if  I  shouldn't  stir  from  here  for 
a  week." 

"  You'll  see  nothing  at  all,"  giggled  his  neighbour. 
"  Do  you  suppose  they  don't  have  back  stairs  and  private 
entrances  in  this  infernal  shop  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  if  I  believed  anything  of  the  kind,"  exclaimed  the 
big  man  in  a  voice  trembUng  with  passion,  "  I'd  soon  break 
in  some  of  these  doors :  it  isn't  so  hard,  after  all." 

Already  he  was  gazing  at  the  servant  with  an  alarming 
air,  when  an  old  gentleman  with  a  discreet  look  stepped  up 
to  him,  and  inquired :  "  Excuse  me,  sir,  how  many  shares 
have  you  ? " 


244 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  Three,"  answered  the  man  with  the  brick-coloured 
face. 

The  other  sighed.  "  I  have  two  hundred  and  fifty,"  he 
said.  "  That's  why,  being  as  interested  as  yourself  in  not 
losing  everything,  I  beg  of  you  to  indulge  in  no  violent 
proceedings." 

There  was  no  need  of  further  persuasion.  The  door 
which  the  servant  was  guarding  flew  open.  A  clerk  ap- 
peared, and  made  sign  that  he  wished  to  speak.  "  Gentle- 
men," he  began,  M.  de  Thaller  has  come  ;  but  he  is  just 
now  engaged  with  the  investigating  magistrate."  Shouts 
having  drowned  his  voice,  he  withdrew  precipitately. 

If  the  law  gets  its  finger  in,"  murmured  the  discreet 
gentleman,  "good-bye  !  " 

"  That's  a  fact,"  said  another.  "  But  we  shall  have  the 
precious  advantage  of  hearing  that  dear  baron  condemned 
to  one  year's  imprisonment,  and  a  fine  of  fifty  francs. 
That's  the  regular  rate.  He  wouldn't  get  off  so  cheap  if 
he  had  stolen  a  loaf  of  bread  from  a  baker.  " 

"  Do  you  then  believe  that  story  about  the  magistrate  }  " 
roughly  interrupted  the  big  man. 

They  had  to  believe  it  when  they  saw  him  appear^  fol- 
lowed by  a  commissary  of  police  and  a  porter,  carrying  on 
his  back  a  load  of  books  and  papers.  They  stood  aside 
to  let  them  pass  ;  but  there  was  no  time  to  make  any  com- 
ments, as  another  clerk  appeared  immediately  and  said  : 
"  M.  de  Thaller  is  ready  to  receive  you,  gentlemen. 
Please  walk  in." 

There  was  then  a  terrible  jamming  and  pushing  to  see 
who  would  get  first  into  the  directors'  room,  the  door  of 
which  stood  wide  open.  M.  de  Thaller  :vas  leaning 
against  the  mantle-piece,  neither  paler  nor  more  excited 
than  usual,  but  like  a  man  who  feels  sure  of  himself  and 
of  his  means  of  action.  As  soon  as  silence  was  restored, 
— "  First  of  all,  gentlemen,"  he  began,  "  I  must  tell  you 
that  the  board  of  directors  is  about  to  meet,  and  that  a 
general  meeting  of  the  shareholders  will  be  called."  Not 
a  murmur.  As  at  the  touch  of  a  magician's  wand  the  dis- 
positions of  the  shareholders  seemed  to  have  changed- 
"  I  have  nothing  new  to  inform  you  of,"  he  went  oa 
"  What  happens  is  a  misfortune,  but  not  a  disaster.  The 
first  thing  to  do  was  to  save  the  company  :  and  I  had  firsl 
thought  of  making  a  call  for  funds — " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


245 


"  Well,"  interrupted  two  or  three  timid  voices,  if  it 
was  absolutely  necessary — " 

But  there  is  no  need  of  it — " 
Ah,  ah  ! 

"  For  I  can  manage  to  carry  everything  through  by  ad- 
ding to  our  reserve  fund  my  own  private  fortune." 

This  time  the  hurrahs  and  the  bravos  drowned  his  voice. 
M.  de  Thaller  received  them  like  a  man  who  deserves 
them,  and,  more  slowly,  "  Honour  commanded  it,"  he  con- 
tinued. "  I  confess  it,  gentlemen,  the  wretch  who  has  so 
basely  deceived  us  had  my  entire  confidence.  You  will 
understand  my  apparent  blindness  when  you  know  with 
what  infernal  skill  he  managed." 

Loud  imprecations  burst  forth  on  all  sides  against  Vin- 
cent Favoral.  But  the  manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank 
proceeded :  "  For  the  present,  all  I  have  to  ask  of  you  is  to 
keep  cool,  and  continue  to  give  me  your  confidence." 

"  Yes,  yes  !  " 

"The  panic  of  the  night  before  last  was  but  a  stock 
jobbing  manoeuvre,  organized  by  rival  establishments,  who 
were  in  hopes  of  taking  our  customers  away  from  us. 
They  will  be  disappointed,  gentl-emen.  We  will  triumph- 
antly demonstrate  our  soundness ;  and  we  shall  come  out 
of  this  trial  more  powerful  than  ever." 

It  was  all  over.  M.  de  Thaller  understood  his  business. 
They  offered  him  a  vote  of  thanks.  A  smile  was  beaming 
upon  the  same  faces  that  were  a  moment  before  contracted 
by  rage.  One  shareholder  alone  did  not  seem  to  share 
the  general  enthusiasm  :  he  was  no  other  than  our  old 
friend,  M.  Chapelain,  the  ex-lawyer.  "  That  fellow  de 
Thaller  is  just  capable  of  getting  himself  out  of  the 
scrape,"  he  grumbled.    "  I  must  tell  Maxence." 


IL 

We  have  every  species  of  courage  m  France,  and  to  a 
superior  degree,  except  that  of  braving  public  opinion. 
Few  men  would  have  dared,  like  Marius  de  Tregars,  to 
offer  their  name  to  the  daughter  of  a  wretch  charged  with 
embezzlement  and  forgery,  and  at  the  very  moment  when 
the  scandal  of  the  crime  was  at  its  height.  But,  when 
Marius  judged  a  thing  good  and  just,  he  did  it  without 


246 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


troubling  himself  in  the  least  about  what  others  would 
think.  And  so  his  mere  presence  in  the  house  of  the  Rue 
St.  Gilles  had  brought  back  hope  to  its  inmates.  Of  his 
designs  he  had  said  but  a  few  words  :  "  I  have  the  means 
of  helping  you  ;  I  intend,  by  marrying  Gilberte,  to  acquire 
the  right  of  doing  so."  But  those  words  had  been  enough. 
Madame  Favoral  and  Maxence  had  understood  that  the 
man  who  spoke  thus  was  one  of  those  cool  and  resolute 
men  whom  nothing  disconcerts  or  discourages,  and  who 
know  how  to  make  the  best  of  the  most  perilous  situations. 
And,  when  he  had  retired  with  the  Count  de  Villegre, 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte  said  to  her  mother  and  her  brother  : 
*'  I  don't  know  what  he  will  do  ;  but  he  will  certainly  do 
something ;  and,  if  it  is  humanly  possible  to  succeed,  he 
will  succeed."  And  how  proudly  she  spoke  thus  !  Marius's 
assistance  was  the  justification  of  her  conduct.  She  trem- 
bled with  joy  at  the  thought  that  it  would,  perhaps,  be  to 
the  man  whom  she  had  alone  and  so  boldly  chosen  that 
her  family  would  owe  their  salvation.  Nodding  his  head, 
and  making  allusion  to  events  of  which  he  kept  the  secret, 
Maxence  added  :  I  firmly  believe,  that,  to  reach  our 
father's  enemies,  M.  de  Tregars  possesses  some  powerful 
means  ;  and  what  they  are  we  will  doubtless  soon  know, 
since  I  have  an  appointment  with  him  for  to-morrow 
morning." 

It  came  at  last,  that  morrow,  which  he  had  awaited  with 
an  impatience  that  neither  his  mother  nor  his  sister  could 
suspect.  And  towards  half-past  nine  he  was  ready  to  go 
out,  when  M.  Chapelain  called.  Still  irritated  by  the 
scenes  he  had  just  witnessed  at  the  offices  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank,  the  old  lawyer  arrived  with  a  most  lugubrious 
countenance.  "  I  bring  bad  news,"  he  began.  "  I  have 
just  seen  the  Baron  de  Thaller." 

He  said  so  much  the  day  before  about  having  nothing 
more  to  do  with  it,  that  Maxence  could  not  repress  a  ges- 
ture of  surprise. 

"Oh  !  it  isn't  alone  that  I  saw  him,"  added  M.  Chape- 
lain,  "  but  together  with  at  least  a  hundred  shareholders 
of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank." 

"  They  are  going  to  do  something,  then  ?  " 

"  No :  they  only  came  near  doing  something.  You 
should  have  seen  them  this  morning  !  They  were  furious  ; 
they  threatened  to  break  everything  ;  they  wanted  M.  d@ 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


247 


Thaller's  blood.  It  was  terrible  !  But  M.  de  Thaller 
condescended  to  receive  them  ;  and  they  became  at  once 
as  meek  as  lambs.  It  is  perfectly  simple.  What  do  you 
suppose  shareholders  can  do,  no  matter  how  exasperated 
they  may  be,  when  their  manager  tells  them  :  ^  Well,  yes, 
it's  a  fact  you  have  been  robbed,  and  your  money  is  in 
great  jeopardy  ;  but  if  you  make  any  fuss,  if  you  complain, 
all  is  sure  to  be  lost.'  Of  course,  the  shareholders  keep 
quiet.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  a  business  which  has 
to  be  liquidated  through  the  law  courts  is  lost ;  and 
swindled  shareholders  fear  the  law  almost  as  much  as  the 
swindling  manager.  A  single  fact  will  make  the  situation 
clearer  to  you.  Less  than  an  hour  ago,  M.  de  Thaller's 
shareholders  offered  him  money  to  make  up  the  loss." 
And,  after  a  moment  of  silence,  he  added  :  But  this  is 
not  all.  Justice  has  interfered  :  and  M.  de  Thaller  spent 
the  morning  with  an  investigating  magistrate." 
Well } " 

"  Well,  I  have  enough  experience  to  assure  you  that  you 
must  not  rely  any  more  upon  justice  than  upon  the  share- 
holders. Unless  there  are  proofs  so  evident  that  they  are 
not  likely  to  exist,  M.  de  Thaller  will  not  be  disturbed." 

"  Oh  ! " 

"  Why  ?  Because,  my  dear  fellow,  in  all  these  big  finan- 
cial operations,  justice,  as  much  as  possible,  remains  blind. 
Not  through  corruption,  or  any  guilty  connivance,  but 
through  considerations  of  public  interest.  If  the  manager 
was  prosecuted,  he  would  be  condemned  to  a  few  years' 
imprisonment;  but  the  shareholders  would  at  the  same 
time  be  condemned  to  lose  what  they  have  left;  so  that 
the  victims  would  be  more  severely  punished  than  the 
swindler.  And  so,  powerless,  justice  does  not  interfere. 
And  that's  what  accounts  for  the  impudence  and  impunity 
of  all  those  highflown  rascals  who  go  about  with  their  heads 
erect,  their  pockets  filled  with  other  people's  money,  and 
half  a  dozen  decorations  at  their  button-hole." 

"  And  what  then  ?  "  asked  Maxence. 

"Then  it  is  evident  that  your  father  is  lost.  Whether 
or  not  he  have  accomplices,  he  alone  will  be  sacrificed.  A 
scapegoat  is  needed  to  be  slaughtered  on  the  altar  of  credit. 
Well,  they  will  give  that  much  satisfaction  to  the  swindled 
shareholders.    The  twelve  millions  will  be  lost ;  but  the 


248 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


shares  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank, will  go  up  again,  and 
public  morality  wih  be  safe." 

Somewhat  moved  by  the  old  lawyer's  tone,  Maxence  in- 
quired :     What  do  you  advise  me  to  do  then,  sir  ? 

The  very  reverse  of  what,  on  the  first  impulse,  I  advised 
you  to  do.  That's  why  I  have  come.  I  said  to  you  yes- 
terday, *  Make  a  row,  act,  scream.  It  is  impossible  that  your 
father  be  alone  guilty ;  attack  M.  de  Thaller.'  To-day, 
after  mature  deliberation,  I  say,  'Keep  quiet,  hide  your- 
self, let  the  scandal  drop.'  " 

A  bitter  smile  contracted  Maxence's  lips.  "  It  is  not 
very  brave  advice  you  are  giving  me  there,"  he  said. 

It  is  a  friend's  advice — the  advice  of  a  man  who  knows 
life  better  than  yourself.  Poor  young  man,  you  are  not 
aware  of  the  peril  of  certain  struggles.  All  knaves  are  in 
league,  and  sustain  each  other.  To  attack  one  is  to  attack 
them  all.  You  have  no  idea  of  the  occult  influences  of  which 
a  man  can  dispose  who  handles  millions,  and  who,  in  ex- 
change for  a  favour,  has  always  a  bonus  to  offer,  or  a  good 
operation  to  propose.  If  at  least  I  could  see  any  chance 
of  success  !  But  you  have  not  one.  You  never  can  reach 
M.  de  Thaller,  henceforth  supported  by  his  shareholders. 
You  will  only  succeed  in  making  an  enemy  whose  hostility 
will  weigh  upon  your  whole  life." 

"  What  does  it  matter  ?  " 

M.  Chapelain  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  If  you  were 
alone,"  he  answered,  "  I  would  say  as  you  do,  '  What  does 
it  matter  ? '  But  you  are  no  longer  alone  :  you  have  your 
mother  and  sister  to  take  care  of.  You  must  think  of  food 
before  thinking  of  vengeance.  How  much  a  month  do 
you  earn  ?  Two  hundred  francs  !  It  is  not  much  for  three 
persons.  I  would  never  suggest  that  you  should  solicit 
M.  de  Thaller's  protection  ;  but  it  would  be  well,  perhaps, 
to  let  him  know  that  he  has  nothing  to  fear  from  you.  Why 
shouldn't  you  do  so  when  you  take  him  back  his  fifteen  thou- 
sand francs  ?  If,  as  everything  indicates,  he  is  your  father's 
accomplice,  he  will  certainly  be  touched  by  the  distress  of 
your  family,  and  if  he  has  any  heart  left,  he  will  manage  to 
make  you  find,  without  appearing  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
it,  a  situation  better  suited  to  your  wants.  I  know  that  such  a 
step  must  be  very  painful ;  but  I  repeat  it,  my  dear  fellow, 
you  can  no  longer  think  of  yourself  alone  ;  and,  what  one 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


249 


would  not  do  for  himself,  one  does  for  a  mother  and  ^ 
sister." 

Maxence  said  nothing.  Not  that  he  was  in  any  way 
affected  by  the  worthy  old  lawyer's  speech ;  but  he  was 
asking  himself  whether  or  not  he  should  confide  to  him  the 
events  which  in  the  past  twenty-four  hours  had  so  suddenly 
modified  the  situation.  He  did  not  feel  authorised  to  do 
so.  Marius  de  Tregars  had  not  bound  him  to  secrecy ; 
but  an  indiscretion  might  have  fatal  consequences.  And, 
after  a  moment  of  reflection,  he  replied  evasively  :  "  I  am 
obliged  to  you,  sir,  for  the  interest  you  have  manifested 
in  our  welfare  ;  and  we  shall  always  greatly  prize  your  ad- 
vice. But  for  the  present  you  must  allow  me  to  leave  you 
with  my  mother  and  sister.  I  have  an  appointment  with — 
a  friend." 

And,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  slipped  M.  de 
Thaller's  fifteen  thousand  francs  in  his  pocket,  and  hurried 
out.  It  was  not  to  M.  de  Tregars  that  he  went  first,  how- 
ever, but  to  the  Hotel  des  Folies. 

"  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  has  just  come  home  with  a 
big  bundle,"  said  Madame  Fortin  to  Maxence,  with  her 
pleasantest  smile,  as  soon  as  she  saw  him  emerge  from  the 
dark  corridor.  For  the  past  twenty-four  hours,  the  worthy 
landlady  had  been  watching  for  her  lodger,  in  the  hopes 
of  obtaining  some  information  which  she  might  communi- 
cate to  the  neighbours.  Without  even  condescending  to 
answer,  a  piece  of  rudeness  at  which  she  felt  much  hurt, 
he  crossed  the  narrow  court-yard  of  the  hotel  and  hurried 
upstairs.  Mademoiselle  Lucienne's  room-door  was  open. 
He  walked  in,  and,  still  out  of  breath  from  his  rapid  as' 
cension,  he  exclaimed :  "  I  am  glad  to  find  you  in." 

The  young  girl  was  busy  arranging  upon  her  bed  a  dress 
of  very  light-coloured  silk,  trimmed  with  ruches  and  lace, 
a  jacket  to  match,  and  a  bonnet  of  extraordinary  shape, 
surrounded  with  the  most  brilliant  feathers  and  flowers. 

You  see  what  brings  me  here,"  she  said.  "  I  have  just 
come  to  dress.  At  two  o'clock  the  carriage  is  coming  to 
take  me  to  the  Bois,  where  I  am  to  exibit  this  costume, 
certainly  the  most  ridiculous  that  Van  Klopen  has  yet  made 
me  wear." 

A  smile  flitted  across  Maxence's  lips.  "  Who  knows," 
said  he,  "  if  this  is  not  the  last  time  you  will  have  to  pep 


250 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


form  this  odious  task  ?    Ah,  my  friend !  what  events  have 
taken  place  since  I  last  saw  you ! 
"  Happy  ones  ? 

"You  shall  judge  for  yourself. 

He  closed  the  door  carefully,  and,  returning  to  Mademoi- 
selle Lucienne,  Do  you  know  the  Marquis  de  Tregars  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  No  more  than  you  do.  It  was  yesterday,  at  the  office 
of  the  commissary  of  police,  that  I  first  heard  his  name.'' 

"  Well,  before  a  month  is  past,  M.  de  Tregars  will  be 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte  Favoral's  husband.'' 

"  Is  it  possible  ? "  exclaimed  Mademoiselle  Lucienne 
with  a  look  of  extreme  surprise. 

But,  instead  of  answering,  Maxence  resumed  :  "  You 
told  me,  that  once,  in  a  day  of  supreme  distress,  you  applied 
to  Madame  de  Thaller  for  assistance,  whereas  you  were 
actually  entitled  to  an  indemnity  for  having  been  run  over 
and  seriously  hurt  by  her  carriage." 

"  That  is  true." 

"  Whilst  you  were  in  the  vestibule,  waiting  for  an  an- 
swer to  your  letter,  which  a  servant  had  taken  up  stairs, 
M.  de  Thaller  came  in ;  and,  when  he  saw  you,  he  could 
not  repress  a  gesture  of  surprise,  almost  of  terror." 

"  That  is  true  also." 

"  This  behaviour  of  M.  de  Thaller  always  remained  an 
enigma  to  you." 

"  An  inexplicable  one." 

"  Well,  I  think  that  I  can  explain  it  to  you  now." 
"  You  ? " 

Lowering  his  voice ;  for  he  knew  that  at  the  Hotel  des 
Folies  there  was  always  some  indiscreet  ear  to  fear,  he  an- 
swered :  "  Yes,  I,  and  for  the  reason  that  yesterday,  when 
M.  de  Tregars  appeared  in  my  mother's  drawing-room,  I 
could  not  suppress  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  because 
Lucienne,  between  Marius  de  Tregars  and  yourself,  there 
is  a  resemblance  with  which  it  is  impossible  not  to  be 
struck." 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  had  become  very  pale.  "  What 
do  you  suppose,  then  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  believe,  my  friend,  that  we  are  very  near  penetrating 
at  the  same  time  the  mystery  of  your  birth  and  the  secret 
of  the  hatred  that  has  pursued  you  since  the  day  when 
you  set  foot  in  M.  de  Thaller's  house." 


OTHER  PEOPLE-' S  MONEY. 


Admirably  self-possessed  as  Mademoiselle  Lucienne 
usually  was,  the  quivering  of  her  lips  betrayed  at  this  mo- 
ment the  intensity  of  her  emotion.  After  more  than  a 
minute  of  profound  meditation,  she  said  :  The  commissary 
of  police  has  never  told  me  his  hopes,  except  in  very  vague 
terms.  He  has  told  me  enough,  however,  to  make  me 
think  that  he  has  already  had  suspicions  similar  to  yours." 

Of  course  !  Would  he  otherwise  have  questioned  me 
on  the  subject  of  M.  de  Tregars." 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  shook  her  head.  "  And  yet," 
she  continued,  "  even  after  your  explanation,  it  is  in  vain 
that  I  ask  myself  how  I  can  so  far  disturb  M.  de  Thaller's 
security  that  he  should  wish  to  do  away  with  me." 

Maxence  made  a  gesture  of  indifference.  I  confess," 
he  said,  that  I  don't  see  it  either.  But  what  of  that.? 
Without  being  able  to  explain  why,  I  feel  that  the  Baron 
de  Thaller  is  the  common  enemy — yours,  mine,  my  father's, 
and  M.  de  Tregars's.  And  something  tells  me,  that,  with 
M.  de  Tregars's  help,  we  shall  triumph.  You  would  share 
my  confidence,  Lucienne,  if  you  knew  him.  He  is  a  man, 
and  my  sister  has  made  no  vulgar  choice.  If  he  has  told 
my  mother  that  he  has  the  means  of  serving  her,  it  is  be- 
cause he  certainly  has."  He  stopped,  and,  after  a  mo- 
ment of  silence,  resumed  :  Perhaps  the  commissary  of 
police  might  readily  understand  what  I  only  dimly  suspect; 
but,  until  further  orders,  we  are  forbidden  to  have  recourse 
to  him.  It  is  not  my  own  secret  that  I  have  just  told  you, 
and,  if  I  have  confided  it  to  you,  it  is  because  I  feel  that  it 
is  a  great  piece  of  good  fortune  for  us :  and  there  is  no  joy 
for  me,  that  you  do  not  share." 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  wanted  to  ask  many  more  par- 
ticulars. But,  looking  at  his  watch,  he  exclaimed  :  "  Half- 
past  ten  !  M.  de  Tregars  is  waiting  for  me."  And  he 
started  off,  saying  to  the  young  girl,  "  I  will  see  you  to- 
night :  until  then  good  hope  and  good  courage." 

In  the  court-yard  two  ill-looking  men  were  talking  with 
the  Fortius.  But  often  the  Fortius  talked  with  ill-looking 
men  ;  so  he  took  no  notice  of  them  and  hastened  out.  He 
hailed  a  passing  cab  and  told  the  driver  to  drive  him  to  70 
Rue  Lafitte  as  quick  as  possible. 

When  Marius  de  Tregars  finally  determined  to  compel 
the  bold  rascals  who  had  swindled  his  father  to  disgorge, 
he  took  a  small,  plainly-furnished  apartment  in  the  Rue 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


Lafitte,  and  he  engaged  to  wait  upon  him  an  old  family 
servant,  whom  he  had  found  out  of  place,  and  who  was 
thoroughly  devoted  to  him.  It  was  this  excellent  man 
who  opened  the  door  to  Maxence.  *^  Ah  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
**my  master  has  been  impatiently  expecting  you."  It  was 
so  true  that  M.  de  Tregars  himself  appeared  at  the  same 
moment,  and  leading  Maxence  into  the  little  room  which 
he  used  as  a  study.  "  Do  you  know,"  he  said  whilst  shak- 
ing him  cordially  by  the  hand,  "  that  you  are  almost  an 
hour  behind  time  ?  "  Maxence  had  among  others  the 
detestable  fault,  sure  indication  of  a  weak  nature  of  never 
being  willing  to  be  in  the  wrong,  and  of  always  having  an 
excuse  ready.  On  this  occasion  the  excuse  was  too  tempt- 
ing for  him  to  pass  it  over,  and  he  quickly  related  how  he 
had  been  detained  by  M.  Chapelain,  and  how  he  had 
heard  from  the  ex-lawyer  what  had  just  taken  place  at  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank. 

"  I  have  alreaady  heard  of  it,"  said  M.  de  Tregars.  And 
he  added  in  a  chaffing  tone  :  Only  I  attributed  your  want 
of  punctuality  to  another  reason,  a  very  pretty  one  too,  a 
brunette." 

A  purple  cloud  overspread  Maxence's  cheeks,  What !  " 
he  stammered,  "  you  know  1 " 

"  I  thought  that  you  must  have  been  in  haste  to  go  and 
tell  a  person  of  your  acquaintance  why,  when  you  saw  me 
yesterday,  you  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise." 

This  time  Maxence  lost  all  countenance.  "  What,"  he 
exclaimed,    you  know  that  also  " 

M.  de  Tregars  smiled.  "  I  know  a  great  many  things 
my  dear  M.  Maxence,"  he  replied  ;  "  and  yet,  as  I  do  not 
wish  to  be  suspected  of  witchcraft,  I  will  tell  you  where  all 
my  science  comes  from.  At  the  time  when  your  house  was 
closed  to  me,  after  seeking  for  a  long  time  some  means  of 
hearing  from  your  sister,  I  discovered  at  last  that  she  had 
Lor  her  music-teacher  an  old  Italian,  Signor  Gismondo 
Pulci.  I  applied  to  him  for  lessons,  and  became  his  pupil. 
But  for  the  first  days  he  kept  looking  at  me  with  singular 
persistance.  1  inquired  the  reason,  and  he  told  me  that 
he  had  once  had  for  a  neighbour  at  BatignoUes,  a  young 
work-girl  who  resembled  me  prodigiously.  I  paid  no  at- 
tention to  this  circumstance,  and  had  in  fact  completely 
forgotten  it ;  when  quite  lately,  Gismondo  told  me  that  he 
had  just  seen  his  former  neighbour  again,  and  what's 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


253 


more,  arm  in  arm  with  you,  and  that  you  had  entered  the 
Hotel  des  Folies  together.  As  he  insisted  again  upon  that 
famous  resemblance,  I  determined  to  see  for  myself.  I 
watched  and  I  saw  that  my  old  Italian  was  not  quite 
wrong,  and  that  I  had,  perhaps,  just  found  the  weapon  I 
was  looking  for.^' 

With  staring  eyes  and  gaping  mouth  Maxence  looked 
like  a  man  fallen  from  the  clouds.  "  Ah,  you  played  the 
spy !  "  he  said. 

M.  de  Tregars  snapped  his  fingers  with  a  gesture  of  in- 
difference. It  is  certain,''  he  replied,  "  that  for  a  month 
past  I  have  been  doing  a  singular  business.  But  it  is  not 
by  remaining  on  my  chair,  preaching  against  the  corruption 
of  the  age  that  I  can  attain  my  object.  The  end  justifies 
the  means.  Honest  men  are  very  silly,  I  think,  to  allow 
the  rascals  to  get  the  better  of  them  under  the  sentimental 
pretext  that  they  cannot  condescend  to  make  use  of  their 
weapons.'' 

But  an  honourable  scruple  was  tormenting  Maxence. 
"  And  you  think  yourself  well-informed,  sir  ?  "  he  inquired. 
"  You  know  Lucienne  t  " 

"  Enough  to  know  that  she  is  not  what  she  seems  to  be, 
and  what  almost  any  other  would  have  been  in  her  place  ; 
enough  to  be  certain,  that  if  she  shows  herself  two  or  three 
times  a  week  driving  in  the  Bois,  it  is  not  for  her  pleasure  ; 
enough  also  to  be  persuaded,  that  despite  appearances, 
she  is  not  your  mistress,  and  that  far  from  having  dis- 
turbed your  life,  and  compromised  your  prospects,  she 
kept  you  in  the  right  path  at  the  moment,  perhaps,  when 
you  were  about  to  branch  off  into  the  wrong  one." 

Marius  de  Tregars  was  assuming  fantastic  proportions 
in  Maxence's  mind.  "  How  did  you  manage,"  he  stam- 
mered, "  to  find  out  the  truth  ?  " 

"  With  time  and  money,  everything  is  possible." 

"  But  you  must  have  had  very  grave  reasons  to  take  so 
much  trouble  about  Lucienne." 

"  Very  grave  ones,  indeed." 

"  You  know  that  she  was  basely  abandoned  when  quite 
a  child  ? " 
"  Perfectly." 

^'  And  that  she  was  brought  up  through  charity — " 
"  By  some  poor  gardeners  at  Louveciennes  ;  yes  I  know 
all  that." 


254 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MOAEY. 


Maxence  was  trembling  with  joy.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  his  most  dazzhng  hopes  were  about  to  be  reaUzed. 
Seizing  his  friend's  hand.  "Ah,  you  know  Lucienne's 
family  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  shook  his  head.  "  I  have  suspi- 
cions/' he  answered ;  "  but  up  to  this  time,  I  have  suspi- 
cions only,  I  assure  you." 

"  But  that  family  does  exist ;  since  they  have  already 
at  three  different  times  attempted  to  get  rid  of  the  poor 
girl." 

I  think  as  you  do  ;  but  we  must  have  proofs.  How- 
ever, we  shall  find  some  soon.  You  may  rest  assured  of 
that." 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  the  noise  of  the  door  open- 
ing. The  old  servant  came  in,  and  advancing  to  the  cen- 
tre of  the  room  with  a  mysterious  look,  he  said  in  a  low 
voice,  "  The  Baroness  de  Thaller." 

Marius  de  Tregars  started  violently.  "  Where  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  She  is  down  stairs  in  her  carriage,"  replied  the  ser- 
vant. Her  footman  is  here,  and  he  has  asked  whether 
you  are  at  home,  and  whether  she  may  come  up." 

"  Can  she  possibly  have  heard  anything  ?  "  murmured 
M.  de  Tregars  with  a  frown.  And  after  a  moment  of  re- 
flection, he  added  quickly  :  All  the  more  reason  to  see 
her.  Let  her  come.  Ask  her  to  do  me  the  honour  of 
coming  up-stairs." 

This  last  incident  completely  upset  all  Maxence's  ideas. 
He  no  longer  knew  what  to  imagine.  "  Quick,"  said  M.  de 
Tregars  to  him  :  "  quick,  disappear  ;  and  whatever  you  may 
hear,  not  a  word  !  "  And  he  pushed  him  into  his  bedroom, 
which  was  divided  from  the  study  by  a  mere  tapestry  cur- 
tain. 

It  was  time,  for  already  in  the  next  room  could  be  heard 
a  great  rustling  of  silk  and  starched  petticoats.  Madame 
de  Thaller  appeared.  She  was  still  the  same  coarsely 
beautiful  woman,  who  sixteen  years  before  had  sat  at  Mad- 
ame Favoral's  table.  Time  had  passed  scarcely  touching 
her  with  the  tip  of  his  wing.  Her  flesh  had  retained  its 
dazzling  whiteness  ;  her  hair  of  bluish  black  its  wonderful 
opulence  ;  her  lips  their  carmine  blue ;  her  eyes  their  lus- 
tre. Her  figure  only  had  become  heavier,  her  features  less 
delicate,  and  her  neck  and  throat  had  lost  their  undulations, 


OTHER  PEOPLKS  MONEY. 


255 


and  the  purity  of  their  outlines.  But  neither  the  years,  nor 
the  millions,  nor  the  intimacy  of  the  most  fashionable 
women,  had  been  able  to  give  her  those  qualities  which 
cannot  be  acquired — grace,  distinction  and  taste.  If 
there  was  a  woman  accustomed  to  dress,  it  was  she.  Her 
elegance  was  quoted  and  copied.  And  yet  there  was 
about  her,  always  and  under  all  circumstances,  an  inde- 
scribable flavour  of  the  upstart.  Her  gestures  had  re- 
mained trivial ;  her  voice  common  and  vulgar.  Throwing 
herself  into  an  arm-chair  and  bursting  into  a  loud  laugh. 
"  Confess,  my  dear  marquis,"  she  said,  that  you  are  ter- 
ribly astonished  to  see  me  thus  drop  upon  you  without 
warning,  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning." 

"  I  feel  above  all,  terribly  flattered,"  replied  M.  de  Tre- 
gars,  smiling. 

With  a  rapid  glance  she  surveyed  the  little  study,  the 
modest  furniture,  the  papers  piled  on  the  desk  as  if  she 
had  hoped  that  the  dwelling  would  reveal  to  her  something 
of  the  master's  ideas  and  projects.  I  have  just  come 
from  Van  Klopen's,"  she  resumed;  and  passing  your 
door  I  took  a  fancy  to  come  in  and  stir  you  up  ;  and  here 
I  am." 

M.  de  Tregars  was  too  much  a  man  of  the  world,  and 
of  the  best  world,  to  allow  his  features  to  betray  the  secret 
of  his  impressions  ;  and  yet,  to  any  one  who  had  known 
him  well,  a  certain  contraction  of  the  eyelids  would  have 
revealed  a  serious   annoyance   and  an  intense  anxiety. 

How  is  the  baron  ?  "  he  inquired. 

As  sound  as  an  oak,"  answered  Madame  de  Thaller, 
"  notwithstanding  all  the  cares  and  the  troubles  which  you 
can  well  imagine.  By  the  way,  you  know  what  has  hap- 
pened to  us  ? " 

"  I  read  in  the  papers  that  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank  had  disappeared." 

"  And  it  is  but  too  true  !    That  wretch  Favoral  has 
gone  off  with  an  enormous  amount  of  money." 
Twelve  millions,  I  heard." 

Something  like  it.  A  man  who  had  the  reputation  of 
a  saint  too  ;  a  puritan.  Trust  people's  faces  after  that !  I 
never  liked  him,  I  confess.  But  M.  de  Thaller  had  a  per- 
fect fancy  for  him  ;  and,  when  he  had  spoken  of  his  Fa- 
voral, there  was  nothing  more  to  be  said.  Any  way,  he 
has  cleared  out,  leaving  his  family  without  means.  A 


256 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


very  interesting  family,  it  seems,  too — a  wife  who  is  good- 
ness itself,  and  a  charming  daughter  ;  at  least,  so  says 
Costeclar,  who  is  very  much  in  love  with  her/'  M.  de 
Tregars's  countenance  remained  perfectly  indifferent,  like 
that  of  a  man  who  is  hearing  about  persons  and  things  in 
which  he  does  not  take  the  slightest  interest.  Madame 
de  Thaller  noticed  it.  But  it  isn't  to  tell  you  all  this," 
she  went  on,  "that  I  came  up.  It  is  an  interested  motive 
that  brought  me.  We  have,  some  of  my  friends  and  my- 
self, organised  a  lottery,  a  work  of  charity,  my  dear  mar- 
quis, and  quite  patriotic,  for  the  benefit  of  the  Alsatians. 
I  have  lots  of  tickets  to  dispose  of  ;  and  I've  thought  of 
you  to  help  me  out." 

"  I  am  at  your  orders,  madame,"  answered  Marius, 
more  smiling  than  ever,  "  but,  in  mercy,  spare  me." 

She  took  some  tickets  from  a  small  tortoise-shell  pocket- 
book.  "  Twenty,  at  ten  francs,"  she  said.  "  It  isn't  too 
much,  is  it  " 

"  It  is  a  great  deal  for  my  modest  resources." 

She  pocketed  the  ten  napoleons  which  he  handed  her, 
and  in  a  tone  of  ironical  comjDassion,  she  asked  :  "  Are 
you  so  very  poor,  then  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  am  neither  a  banker  nor  a  broker,  you  know." 

She  had  risen,  and  was  smoothing  the  folds  of  her 
dress.  "  My  dear  marquis,"  she  resumed,  "  it  is  certainly 
not  I  who  will  pity  you.  When  a  man  of  your  age,  and 
with  your  name,  remains  poor,  it  is  his  own  fault.  Are 
there  no  rich  heiresses  ? " 

"  I  confess  that  I  have  not  tried  to  find  one  yet." 

She  looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes,  and  then,  sud- 
denly bursting  into  a  laugh,  she  said  :  "  Look  around  you, 
and  I'm  sure  you'll  not  be  long  discovering  a  beautiful 
young  girl,  very  blonde,  who  would  be  delighted  to  be- 
come Marchioness  de  Tregars,  and  who  would  bring  in 
her  pinafore,  a  dowry  of  from  twelve  to  fifteen  hundred 
thousand  francs  in  good  securities,  securities  which  the 
Favorals  can't  carry  off.  Think  well  over  the  matter, 
and  come  and  see  us.  You  know  that  M.  de  Thaller  is 
very  fond  of  you ;  and,  after  all  the  trouble  we  have  been 
having,  you  owe  us  a  visit." 

Whereupon  she  went  out,  M.  de  Tregars  going  down  to 
escort  her  to  her  carriage.    But  when  he  came  back,  he 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


257 


exclaimed  to  Maxence  :  "  Attention  !  for  it  is  very  evident 
that  the  De  Thallers  have  wind  of  something." 


III. 

Madame  de  Thaller's  was  a  revelation  visit ;  and 
there  was  no  need  of  very  much  perspicacity  to  guess  her 
anxiety  beneath  her  bursts  of  laughter,  and  to  understand 
that  it  was  a  bargain  she  had  come  to  propose.  It  was 
eiddent,  therefore,  that  ;Marius  de  Tregars  held  within 
his  hands  the  principal  threads  of  that  complicated  in- 
trigue which  had  just  culminated  in  the  robbery  of  twelve 
millions.  But  would  he  be  able  to  make  use  of  them  ? 
What  were  his  designs,  and  his  means  of  action  ?  That 
is  what  Maxence  could  not  in  any  way  conjecture.  He 
had  no  time  to  ask  questions. 

"  Come,"  said  M.  de  Tregars,  whose  agitation  was 
manifest,  come,  let  us  lunch,  we  have  not  a  moment  to 
lose."  And  whilst  his  servant  was  bringing  in  the  modest 
meal,  "  I  am  expecting  M.  d'Escajoul,"  he  added.  "  Show 
him  in  as  soon  as  he  comes." 

Though  mixing  but  little  with  the  financial  world  Max- 
ence had  yet  heard  the  name  of  Octave  d'Escajoul.  Who 
has  not  seen  him  happy  and  smiling,  his  eye  bright  and 
his  lips  ruddy  notwithstanding  his  fifty  years,  walking  on 
the  sunny  side  of  the  Boulevards,  with  his  royal  blue 
jacket  and  his  eternal  white  waistcoat  ?  He  is  passion- 
ately fond  of  everything  that  tends  to  make  life  pleasant 
and  easy ;  dines  at  Bignon's,  or  at  the  Cafe  Anglais ; 
plays  baccarat  at  his  club  with  extraordinary  luck  ;  has 
the  most  comfortable  suite  of  apartments  and  the  most 
elegant  brougham  in  all  Paris.  With  all  this  he  is 
pleased  to  declare  that  he  is  the  happiest  of  men, 
and  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  popular,  for  he  can- 
not walk  from  the  Chaussee-d'Antin  to  the  Rue  Vivienne 
witliout  receiving  at  least  fifty  salutations,  and  shaking 
hands  twice  as  often.  And  when  any  one  asks,  "  What 
does  he  do?"  the  invariable  answer  is,  "Why,  he  oper- 
ates." To  explain  what  sort  of  operations  would  not  be, 
perhaps,  very  easy.  In  the  world  of  rogues,  there  are 
some  rogues  more  formidable  and  more  skilful  than  the 
rest,  who  always  manage  to  escape  the  hand  of  the  law. 
17 


258 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


They  are  not  such  fools  as  to  operate  in  person,  not  they ! 
They  content  themselves  with  watching  their  friends  and 
comrades.  If  a  good  haul  is  made,  at  once  they  appear 
and  claim  their  share.  And  as  they  always  threaten  to  in- 
form there  is  no  help  for  it  but  to  let  them  pocket  a  large 
proportion  of  the  profit.  Well,  in  a  more  elevated  sphere, 
in  the  world  of  speculation,  it  is  precisely  that  lucrative 
and  honourable  industry  which  M.  d'Escajoul  carries  on. 
Thoroughly  master  of  his  ground,  possessing  a  superior 
scent  and  an  imperturbable  patience,  always  awake  and 
continually  on  the  watch,  he  never  operates  unless  he  is 
sure  to  win.  And  the  day  when  the  manager  of  some 
company  has  violated  his  charter,  or  stretched  the  law  a 
little  too  far,  he  may  be  sure  to  see  M.  d'Escajoul  appear 
and  ask  for  some  little — advantages,  and  proffer  in  ex- 
change the  most  thorough  discretion,  and  even  his  kind 
offices.  Two  or  three  of  his  friends  have  heard  him  say  : 
"  Who  would  dare  to  blame  me  !  What  I  am  doing  is 
very  moral." 

Such  is  the  man  who  came  in  smiling,  just  as  Maxence 
and  Marius  de  Tregars  rose  to  receive  him.  You  will 
lunch  with  us  ? he  said. 

"Thank  you,"  answered  M.  d'Escajoul.  "I  lunched 
precisely  at  eleven  as  usual.  Punctuality  is  a  politeness 
which  a  gentleman  owes  to  his  stomach.  But  I  will 
accept  with  pleasure  a  drop  of  that  old  Cognac  which 
you  offered  me  the  other  evening."  He  took  a  seat,  and 
the  valet  brought  him  a  glass,  which  he  set  on  the  edge 
of  the  table.  Then  he  added :  I  have  just  seen  our 
man." 

Maxence  understood  that  he  was  referring  to  M.  de 
Thaller. 

"  Well  ?  "  inquired  M.  de  Tregars. 

"  Impossible  to  get  anything  out  of  him.    I  turned  him 
over  and  over  every  way.    Nothing  !  " 
"Indeed!" 

"  It's  so ;  and  you  know  if  I  understand  the  business. 
It  is  no  use  talking  to  a  man  who  answers  you  all  the 
time,  *The  matter  is  in  the  hands  of  the  law;  experts 
have  been  named  ;  I  have  nothing  to  fear  from  the  most 
?**inute  investigations.'  "  By  the  look  which  Marius  de 
1  Vegars  kept  riveted  upon  M  d'Escajoul,  it  was  easy  to  see 
\  ut  his  confidence  in  him  was  not  without  limits.  H« 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


259 


felt  it  and  with  an  air  of  injured  innocence.  "  Do  you 
suspect  me,  by  chance,''  he  asked,  "  to  have  allowed 
myself  to  be  hoodwinked  by  De  Thaller  !  "  And  as  M. 
de  Tregars  said  nothing,  which  was  the  most  eloquent  of 
answers.  "  Upon  my  word,"  he  insisted,  "  You  are  wrong 
to  doubt  me.  Was  it  you  who  came  after  me?  No.  It 
was  I,  who  hearing  through  Marcolet  the  history  of  your 
fortune,  came  to  tell  you,  *  Do  you  want  to  know  a  way 
of  settling  De  Thaller  ? '  And  the  reasons  I  then  had  to 
wish  that  De  Thaller  might  be  settled,  I  have  them  still. 
He  trifled  with  me,  he  sold  me,  and  he  must  suffer  for 
it ;  for  if  it  came  to  be  known  that  I  could  be  taken  in 
with  impunity,  it  would  be  all  over  with  me." 

After  a  moment  of  silence,  M.  de  Tregars  asked  :  Do 
you  believe,  then,  that  M.  de  Thaller  is  innocent  ? " 

"  Perhaps." 

"  That  would  be  curious." 

"  Or  else  his  measures  are  so  well  taken  that  he  has 
absolutely  nothing  to  fear.  If  Favoral  takes  everything 
upon  himself,  what  can  they  say  to  the  other  ?  If  they 
have  acted  in  collusion  the  thing  has  been  prepared  for  a 
long  time ;  and  before  commencing  to  fish  they  must  have 
troubled  the  water  so  well  that  justice  will  be  unable  to 
see  anything  in  it.' 

And  }ou  see  no  one  who  could  help  us  ? 

"  Favoral—" 

To  Maxence's  great  surprise,  M.  de  Tregars  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  He  is  far  away,"  he  said,  and  were  he 
at  hand  it  is  quite  evident  that  if  he  is  in  collusion  with  M. 
de  Thaller  he  would  not  speak." 

"  Of  course." 

"  That  being  the  case,  what  can  we  do  ?  " 
Wait." 

M.  de  Tregars  made  a  gesture  of  discouragement.  "  I 
might  as  well  give  up  the  fight,  then,"  he  said,  "  and  try 
to  compromise." 

"  Why  so  ?  We  don't  know  what  may  happen.  Keep 
quiet,  be  patient,  I  am  here,  and  I  am  looking  out  for 
squalls."    He  got  up  and  prepared  to  leave. 

"  You  have  more  experience  than  I  have,"  said  M.  de 
Tregars  ;  "  and  since  that's  your  opinion — " 

M.  d'Escajoul  had  resumed  all  his  good  humour.  "  Ven 
well,  then,  it's  understood,"  he  said,  pressing  M.  de  Tre 


26o 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


gars's  hand.  "  I  am  watching  for  both  of  us  ;  and  if  I  see  a 
chance  I  come  at  once,  and  you  act/^ 

But  the  outer  door  had  hardly  closed,  when  suddenly 
the  countenance  of  Marius  de  Tregars  changed.  Shaking 
the  hand  which  M.  d'Escajoul  had  just  touched,  "  Pouah  ! 
he  exclaimed  with  a  look  of  thorough  disgust,  "  pouah !  " 
And,  noticing  Maxence's  look  of  surprise,  "  Don't  you 
understand,"  he  asked,  that  this  old  rascal  has  been  sent 
to  me  by  De  Thaller  to  discover  my  intentions,  and  mis- 
lead me  by  false  information  1  I  had  scented  him,  for- 
tunately ;  and,  if  either  of  us  is  dupe  of  the  other,  I  have 
every  reason  to  believe  that  it  is  not  me.'' 

They  had  finished  their  lunch.  M.  de  Tregars  called 
his  servant.      Have  you  been  for  a  cab  t  "  he  asked. 

"  It  is  at  the  door,  sir.'^ 

"  Then  let  us  be  off." 

Maxence  had  the  good  sense  not  to  over-estimate  him- 
self. Perfectly  convinced  that  he  could  accomplish  noth- 
ing alone,  he  was  firmly  resolved  to  trust  blindly  to  Marius 
de  Tregars.  He  followed  him,  therefore  ;  and  it  was 
only  after  the  cab  had  started,  that  he  ventured  to  ask, 
"  Where  are  we  going  ?  " 

"Didn't  you  hear  me,"  replied  M.  de  Tregars,  "tell  the 
driver  to  take  us  to  the  Palais  de  Justice  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  did ;  but  what  I  wish  to  know  is,  what  we  are 
going  to  do  there  ?  " 

"  You  are  going,  my  dear  friend,  to  ask  an  audience  of 
the  investigating  magistrate,  who  has  your  father's  case  in 
charge,  and  deposit  in  his  hands  the  fifteen  thousand  francs 
you  have  in  your  pockets." 

"  What !  you  wish  me  to — " 

"  I  think  it  better  to  place  that  money  in  the  hands  of 
justice,  which  will  appreciate  the  step,  than  in  those  of  M. 
de  Thaller,  who  would  not  breathe  a  word  about  it.  We 
are  in  a  position  where  nothing  should  be  neglected ;  and 
that  money  may  prove  an  indication." 

But  they  had  arrived.  M.  de  Tregars  guided  Maxence 
through  the  labyrinth  of  corridors  of  the  building,  until  he 
came  to  a  long  gallery,  at  the  entrance  of  which  an  usher 
was  seated,  reading  a  newspaper.  "  M.  Barban  d'Avjan- 
chel.^  "  inquired  M.  de  Tregars. 

"  He  is  in  his  office,"  replied  the  usher. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


261 


Please  ask  him  if  he  will  receive  an  important  deposi- 
tion in  the  Favoral  case.'' 

The  usher  rose  somev/hat  reluctantly,  and,  while  he  was 
gone,  M.  de  Tregars  said  to  Maxence.  "  You  will  go  in 
alone,  I  shall  not  appear  ;  and  it  is  important  that  my 
name  should  not  even  be  pronounced.  But,  above  all,  try 
and  remember  even  the  magistrate's  most  insignificant 
words ;  for,  upon  what  he  tells  you,  I  shall  regulate  my 
conduct." 

The  usher  returned.  "  M.  d'Avranchel  will  receive 
you,"  he  said.  And  conducting  Maxence  to  the  extremity 
of  gallery  he  opened  a  small  door  and  pushed  him  in, 
saying,  at  the  same  time  :  This  is  his  office,  sir  ;  walk 
in." 

It  was  a  small  room  with  a  low  ceiling,  and  poorly  fur- 
nished. The  faded  curtains  and  threadbare  carpet  showed 
plainly  that  more  than  one  magistrate  had*  occupied  it, 
and  that  legions  of  accused  criminals  had  passed  through 
it.  In  front  of  a  table  two  men — one  old,  the  magistrate ; 
the  other  young,  the  clerk — were  initialing  and  classifying 
papers.  These  papers  related  to  the  Favoral  case,  and 
were  all  indorsed  in  large  letters :  Mutual  Credit  Bank. 
As  soon  as  Maxence  appeared  the  magistrate  rose,  and, 
after  measuring  him  with  a  clear  and  cold  look :  Who 
are  you  ?  "  he  interrogated. 

In  a  somewhat  husky  voice  Maxence  stated  his  name 
and  surname. 

"  Ah  !  you  are  Vincent  Favoral's  son,"  interrupted  the 
magistrate.  ^'  And  it  was  you  who  helped  him  to  escape 
through  the  window  ?  I  was  going  to  send  you  a  sum- 
mons this  very  day  ;  but,  since  you  are  here,  so  much  the 
better.  You  have  something  important  to  communicate  I 
have  been  tojd." 

Very  few  people,  even  among  the  most  strictly  honest, 
can  overcome  a  certain  unpleasant  .feeling,  when,  having 
crossed  the  threshold  of  the  Palais  de  Justice,  they  find 
themselves  in  the  presence  of  an  investigating  magistrate. 
More  than  almost  any  one  else  Maxence  was  likely  to  be 
accessible  to  that  vague  and  inexplicable  feeling ;  and  it 
was  v/ith  an  effort  that  he  answered  :  "  On  Saturday  eve- 
ning the  Baron  de  Thaller  called  at  our  house  a  few  min- 
utes before  the  commissary.  After  loading  my  father 
with  reproaches,  he  invited  him  to  leave  the  country  ;  and^ 


262 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


in  order  to  facilitate  his  flight,  he  handed  him  these  fifteen 
thousand  francs.  My  father  declined  to  accept  them  ;  and 
at  the  moment  of  parting,  he  told  me  to  return  them  to  M. 
de  Thaller.  I  thought  it  best  to  return  them  to  you,  sir." 
"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  I  wished  the  fact  known  to  you  of  the  money 
having  been  offered  and  refused.'' 

M.  Barban  d'Avranchel  was  quietly  stroking  his  whis- 
kers, once  of  a  bright  red,  but  now  almost  entirely  white. 

"  Is  this  an  insinuation  against  the  manager  of  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank  ?  "  he  asked. 

Maxence  looked  straight  at  him:  "I  accuse  no  one,'* 
he  said  in  a  tone  which  affirmed  precisely  the  reverse. 

"  I  must  tell  you,"  resumed  the  magistrate,  "  that  M.  de 
Thaller  has  himself  informed  me  of  this  circumstance. 
When  he  called  at  your  house,  he  was  then  ignorant  of 
the  extent  of  the  embezzlements,  and  was  in  hopes  of 
being  able  to  hush  up  the  affairs.  That's  why  he  wished 
his  cashier  to  start  for  Belgium.  This  system  of  helping 
criminals  to  escape  the  just  punishment  of  their  crimes  is 
to  be  bitterly  deplored ;  but  it  is  quite  the  habit  of  finan- 
cial magnates,  who  prefer  sending  some  poor  devil  of  an 
employe  to  hang  himself  abroad,  than  run  the  risk  of  com- 
promising their  credit  by  confessing  that  they  have  been 
robbed." 

Maxence  had  a  great  deal  to  say ;  but  M.  de  Tregars  had 
recommended  him  the  most  extreme  reserve.  He  remained 
silent. 

"  On  the  other  hand,"  added  the  magistrate,  "  the  refusal 
to  accept  the  money  so  generously  offered  does  not  speak 
in  Favoral's  favour.  He  was  well  aware,  when  he  left, 
that  it  would  require  a  great  deal  of  money  to  reach  the 
frontier,  escape  pursuit,  and  hide  himself  abroad  ;  and,  if 
he  refused  the  fifteen  thousand  francs,  it  must  have  been 
because  he  was  well  provided  for  already." 

Tears  of  sham.e  and  rage  started  from  Maxence's  eyes. 
"  I  am  certain,  sir,"  he  exclaimed,  that  my  father  went  off 
without  a  sou." 

What  has  become  of  the  millions,  then  ?  "  asked  the 
magistrate  coldly. 

Maxence  hesitated.  Why  not  mention  his  suspicions  ? 
He  dared  not.  My  father  speculated  at  the  Bourse,"  he 
Stammered. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


263 


And  he  led  a  scandalous  life,  keeping  up,  away  from 
home,  a  style  of  living  which  must  have  absorbed  immense 
sums/' 

"  We  knew  nothing  of  it,  sir  ;  and  our  first  suspicions 
were  aroused  by  what  the  commissary  of  police  told  us.'' 

The  magistrate  insisted  no  more ;  and  in  a  tone  which 
indicated  that  his  question  was  a  mere  matter  of  form,  and 
that  he  attached  but  little  importance  to  the  answer,  he 
asked  :  "  You  have  no  news  from  your  father  ?  " 
None  whatever." 

"  And  you  have  no  idea  where  he  is  hiding  ?  " 

"  Not  the  slightest." 

M.  d' Avranchel  had  already  resumed  his-  seat  at  the  table, 
and  was  again  busy  with  his  papers.  You  may  retire," 
he  said.    "  You  will  be  notified  when  I  need  you." 

Maxence  felt  very  much  discouraged  when  he  rejoined 
M.  de  Tregars  at  the  entrance  of  the  gallery,  "  The  mag- 
istrate is  convinced  of  M.  de  Thaller's  entire  innocence," 
he  said. 

But  as  soon  as  he  had  narrated,  with  a  fidelity  that  did 
honour  to  his  memory,  all  that  had  just  occured,  Nothing 
is  lost  yet,"  declared  M.  de  Tregars.  And,  taking  from 
his  pocket  the  bill  for  two  trunks  which  had  been  found  in 
M.  Favoral's  portfolio,  "There,"  he  said,  we  shall  know 
our  fate." 

M.  de  Tregars  and  Maxence  were  in  luck.  They  had  a 
sharp  driver  and  a  good  horse ;  and  in  twenty  minutes 
they  were  at  the  shop  where  the  trunks  had  been  bought. 

"Well,"  exclaimed  M.  de  Tregars,  "  I  suppose  it  has  to 
be  done."  And  with  the  look  of  a  man  who  has  made  up 
his  mind  to  do  something  which  is  extremely  repugnant  to 
him,  he  jumped  out  of  the  cab,  and,  followed  by  Max- 
ence, entered  the  shop.  It  was  a  modest  establishment ; 
and  the  people  who  kept  it,  husband  and  wife,  seeing  two 
customers  coming  in,  advanced  to  meet  them,  with  that 
welcoming  smile  which  blossoms  upon  the  lips  of  every 
Parisian  shopkeeper.  "  What  do  you  desire,  gentlemen  ? " 
And,  with  wonderful  volubility,  they  went  on  enumerating 
every  article  which  they  had  for  sale  in  their  shop,  from  the 
"  indispensable  necessary,"  containing  sevewty-seven  pieces 
of  solid  silver,  and  costing  four  thousand  francs,  down  to 
the  humblest  carpet-bag  at  thirty-nine  sous. 

But  Marius  de  Tregars  interrupted  them  as  soon  as  he 


264 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


could  get  an  opportunity.  It  was  here,  wasn't  it,"  he 
inquired  showing  them  their  bill,  "  that  the  two  trunks 
were  bought  which  are  charged  in  this  account  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  simultaneously  both  husband  and 
wife. 

When  were  they  delivered  1 " 
"  Our  porter  went  to  deliver  them  less  than  two  hours 
after  they  were  bought." 
"  Where  ? " 

By  this  time  the  shopkeepers  were  beginning  to  exchange 
uneasy  glances.  "  Why  do  you  ask  ?  "  inquired  the  woman 
in  a  tone  which  indicated  that  she  had  the  settled  intention 
not  to  answer,  unless  for  good  and  valid  reasons. 

To  obtain  the  simplest  information  is  not  always  as  easy 
as  might  be  supposed.  The  Parisian  tradesman's  suspi- 
cions are  easily  aroused ;  and  as  his  head  is  stuffed  with 
stories  of  detectives  and  robbers,  he  becomes  as  dumb  as 
an  oyster  as  soon  as  he  is  questioned.  But  M.  de  Tregars 
had  foreseen  the  difficulty.  "  I  beg  you  to  believe,  mad- 
ame,"  he  explained,  "  that  my  questions  are  not  dictated 
by  an  idle  curiosity.  Here  are  the  facts.  A  relative  of 
ours,  a  man  of  a  certain  age,  of  whom  we  are  very  fond, 
and  whose  head  is  a  little  weak  left  his  home  some  forty- 
eight  hours  since.  We  are  looking  for  him  and  we  are  in 
hopes,  if  we  find  these  trunks,  to  find  him  at  the  same 
time." 

With  furtive  glances  the  husband  and  wife  were  tacitly 
consulting  each  other.  ^'  The  truth  is,"  said  they  "  we 
wouldn't  like  under  any  consideration,  to  commit  an  indis- 
cretion which  might  result  to  the  prejudice  of  a  customer." 

Fear  nothing,"  said  M.  de  Tregars  with  a  re-assuring 
gesture.  "  If  we  have  not  had  recourse  to  the  police,  it  is 
because  you  know  it  isn't  pleasant  to  have  the  police  inter- 
fere in  one's  affairs.  If,  however,  you  have  any  objections 
to  answer  me,  I  must  of  course,  apply  to  the  commissary." 

The  argument  proved  decisive.  As  that's  the  case," 
replied  the  woman,  "  I  am  ready  to  tell  all  I  know." 

"  Well  then,  madame,  what  do  you  know  ?  " 
These  two  trunks  were  bought  on  Friday  afternoon 
last,  by  an  elderly  man  tall,  very  thin,  with  a  stern  coun- 
tenance and  wearing  a  long  frockcoat." 

"  No  more  doubt,"  murmured  Maxence.  ^'  It  was  indeed 
he." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


265 


"And  now,"  the  woman  went  on,  "that  you  have  just 
told  me  that  your  relative  is  a  little  weak  in  the  head,  I 
remember  that  this  gentleman  had  a  strange  sort  of  way 
about  him,  and  that  he  kept  walking  about  the  shop  as  if 
he  had  pins  and  needles  in  his  legs.  And  awfully  partic- 
ular he  was  too !  Nothing  was  handsome  enough  and 
strong  enough  for  him  ;  and  he  was  anxious  about  the  safety- 
locks,  as  he  had  he  said  many  objects  of  value,  documents 
and  securities  to  put  away." 

"  And  where  did  he  tell  you  to  send  the  two  trunks  ? " 

"  Rue  du  Cirque,  to  Madame  wait  a  minute  I  have 

the  name  on  the  tip  of  my  tongue." 

"  You  must  have  it  on  your  books  too,"  remarked  M.  de 
Tregars. 

The  husband  was  already  looking  over  his  day-book. 

"April  26,  1872,"  he  said.  April  26,  here  it  is  ;  *  Two 
leather  trunks,  patent  safety-locks,  Madame  Zelie  Cadelle, 
49  Rue  du  Cirque.'  " 

Without  too  much  affectation,  M.  de  Tregars  had  drawn 
near  to  the  shopkeeper  and  was  looking  over  his  shoulder. 
"  What  is  that,"  he  asked,  "  written  there  below  the  ad- 
dress ?  " 

"  That,  sir,  is  the  direction  left  by  the  customer  *  Mark 
on  each  end  of  the  trunks  in  large  letters,  Rio  de  Janeiro." 

Maxence  could  not  suppress  an  exclamation.  But  the 
tradesman  mistook  him ;  and  seizing  this  magnificent 
opportunity  to  display  his  knowledge.  "  Rio  de  Janeiro  is 
the  capital  of  Brazil,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  importance. 
"  And  your  relative  evidently  intended  to  go  there  ;  and  if 
he  has  not  changed  his  mind,  I  doubt  whether  you  can 
overtake  him  ;  for  the  Brazilian  steamer  was  to  have  sailed 
yesterday  from  Havre." 

Whatever  may  have  been  his  feelings,  M.  de  Tregars  re- 
mained perfectly  calm.  "  If  that's  the  case,"  he  said  to 
the  shopkeepers,  "  I  think  I  had  better  give  up  the  search. 
I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  however,  for  your  informa- 
tion." 

"  Do  you  really  believe,"  inquired  Maxence  when  they 
were  once  again  seated  in  their  cab,  "  that  my  father  has 
left  France  ?  " 

M.  de  Tregars  shook  his  head.  "  I  will  give  you  my  opin- 
ion," he  replied  "  after  I  have  investigated  the  matters  in 
the  Rue  du  Cirque." 


266 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


They  drove  there  in  a  few  mimutes  ;  and  the  cab  having 
stopped  at  the  end  of  the  street  he  walked  as  far  as  No. 
49.  It  was  a  small  house,  only  one  storey,  built  between 
a  sanded  court-yard  and  a  garden,  the  tall  trees  in  which 
showed  above  the  roof.  At  the  windows  were  curtains  of 
light-coloured  silk,  a  sure  indication  of  the  presence  of  a 
young  and  pretty  woman. 

For  a  few  minutes  Marius  de  Tregars  remained  in  obser- 
vation ;  but,  as  nothing  stirred,  We  must  find  out  some- 
thing somehow,"  he  exclaimed  impatiently.  And,  notic- 
ing a  large  grocer's  shop  at  No.  62,  he  directed  his  steps 
towards  it,  still  accompanied  by  Maxence.  It  was  the  hour 
of  the  day  when  customers  are  rare.  Standing  in  the  cen- 
tre of  the  shop,  the  grocer,  a  big  fat  man  with  an  air  of  im- 
portance, was  looking  after  his  assistants,  who  were  busy 
putting  things  in  order.  M.  de  Tregars  took  him  aside, 
and  said  with  an  accent  of  mystery :  "  I  am  in  the  employ 
of  M.  Drayton,  the  jeweller  in  the  Rue  de  la  Paix  ;  and  I 
come  to  ask  you  one  of  those  little  favours  which  tradespeo- 
ple owe  to  each  other.'' 

A  frown  appeared  on  the  fat  man's  countenance.  He 
thought,  perhaps,  that  M.  Drayton's  clerks  were  rather  too 
stylish-looking  ;  or  else,  perhaps,  he  felt  apprehensive  of 
one  of  those  numerous  petty  swindles  of  which  shopkeepers 
are  constantly  the  victims.  "  What  is  it  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  Speak  out !  " 

"  I  am  on  my  way,"  resumed  M.  de  Tregars,  to  deliver 
a  ring  which  a  lady  purchased  of  us  yesterday.  She  is  not 
a  regular  customer,  and  has  given  us  no  reference.  If 
she  doesn't  pay,  ought  I  to  leave  the  ring  ?  My  employer 
said  to  me,  '  Consult  some  prominent  tradesman  of  the 
neighbourhood,  and  follow  his  advice." 

Prominent  tradesman  !  Delicately  tickled  vanity  was 
dancing  in  the  grocer's  eyes.  "  What  is  the  lady's  name  ?  " 
he  inquired. 

Madame  Zelie  Cadelle." 

The  grocer  burst  out  laughing.  "In  that  case,  my  lad," 
he  said,  tapping  familiarly  on  the  shoulder  of  the  so-called 
jeweller,  "whether  she  pays  or  not,  you  can  leave  the  arti- 
cle." 

The  familiarity  was  not,  perhaps,  very  much  to  the  taste 
of  the  Marquis  de  Tregars.  "  She  is  rich,  then,  that  lady  ? " 
he  asked. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


267 


"  Personally,  no.    But  she  is  protected  by  an  old  fool, 
who  allows  her  all  her  fancies.'^ 
^'Indeed!" 

It  is  scandalous,  and  you  cannot  form  an  idea  of  the 
amount  of  money  this  is  spent  in  that  house.  Horses,  car- 
riages, servants,  dresses,  balls,  dinners,  card-playing  all 
night,  a  perpetual  carnival  :  it  must  be  ruinous  !  " 

M.  de  Tregars  never  winced.  And  the  old  man  who 
pays,"  he  asked  :  "  do  you  know  him  t  " 

I  have  seen  him  pass ;  a  tall,  lean  old  fellow,  who 
doesn't  look  very  rich,  either.  But  excuse  me,  here  is  a 
customer  I  must  wait  upon," 

Having  regained  the  street,  "  We  must  separate  now," 
declared  M.  de  Tregars  to  Maxence. 

"  What !    You  wish  to—" 

"  Go  and  wait  for  me  in  that  cafe  yonder,  at  the  corner 
of  the  street.  I  must  see  this  Zelie  Cadelle  and  speak  to 
her.''  And,  without  suffering  an  objection  on  the  part  of 
Maxence,  he  walked  resolutely  up  to  the  house  and  rang 
vigorously. 

At  the  sound  of  the  bell  appeared  one  of  those  servants, 
who  seem  manufactured  on  purpose,  heaven  knows  where, 
for  the  special  service  of  young  persons  who  keep  house, 
a  tall  rascal  with  sallow  complexion  and  straight  hair,  a 
cynical  eye,  and  a  low,  impudent  smile.  "  What  do  you 
wish,  sir  ?  "  he  inquired  from  inside  the  gate. 

**That  you  should  open  the  gate,  first,"  exclaimed  M.  de 
Tregars,  with  such  a  look  and  such  an  accent  that  the 
other  obeyed  at  once.  "  And  now,"  he  added,  go  and  an- 
nounce me  to  Madame  Zelie  Cadelle." 

"  Madame  is  out,"  replied  the  valet.  And,  noticing  that 
M.  de  Tregars  shrugged  his  shoulders,  Upon  my  word," 
he  added,  "  she  has  gone  to  the  Bois  with  one  of  her  friends. 
If  you  won't  believe  me,  ask  my  comrades  there,"  And 
he  pointed  out  two  other  servants,  of  the  same  pattern  as 
himself,  who  were  sitting  at  a  table  in  the  coach-house, 
playing  cards  and  drinking. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  did  not  mean  to  be  imposed  upon. 
He  felt  certain  that  the  man  was  lying.  Instead,  therefore, 
of  discussing,  "  You  are  to  take  me  to  your  mistress,"  he 
ordered,  in  a  tone  that  admitted  of  no  objection  ;  "  or  else 
I'll  find  my  way  to  her  alone." 

It  was  evident  that  he  would  do  just  as  he  said,  by  force 


26S 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


if  needs  be.  The  valet  saw  this,  and  after  hesitating  a  mo 
ment  longer,  "  Come  along,  then,"  he  said,  "  since  you  in- 
sist so  much.  We'll  speak  to  the  chambermaid.'^  And^ 
having  led  M.  de  Tregars  into  the  vestibule,  he  called  out :  \ 

Mam'selle  Amanda  !  "  A  woman  at  once  made  her  ap-  ^ 
pearance  who  was  a  worthy  mate  for  the  valet.  She  must 
have  been  about  forty ;  and  the  most  alarming  duplicity 
could  be  read  upon  her  features,  deeply  pitted  by  the  small- 
pox. She  wore  a  pretentious  dress,  an  apron  like  a  stage- 
servant,  and  a  cap  profusely  decorated  with  flowers  and 
ribbons.  Here  is  a  gentleman,"  said  the  valet  who  in- 
sists upon  seeing  madame.    Do  as  you  think  best." 

Better  than  her  fellow-servant.  Mademoiselle  Amanda 
could  judge  with  whom  she  had  to  deal.  A  single  glance 
at  this  obstinate  visitor  convinced  her  that  he  was  not  one 
of  those  who  can  be  easily  turned  off.  Putting  on,  there- 
fore, her  pleasantest  smile,  thus  displaying  at  the  same 
time  her  decayed  teeth,  "  The  fact  is,  sir,  that  you  will  very 
much  disturb  madame,"  she  observed. 

"  I  will  excuse  myself." 

"  But  I'll  be  scolded."  Instead  of  answering,  M.  de 
Tregars  took  a  couple  of  twenty-franc-notes  out  of  his 
pocket,  and  slipped  them  into  her  hand.  "  Please  follow 
me  to  the  drawing-room,  then,"  she  said  with,  a  deep 
sigh. 

M.  de  Tregars  did  so,  whilst  observing  everything  around 
him  with  the  attentive  perspicacity  of  a  deputy  sheriff  pre- 
paring to  make  out  an  inventory.  Being  double,  the  house 
was  much  more  spacious  than  it  seemed  to  be  from  the 
street,  and  it  was  arranged  with  that  science  of  comfort 
which  is  the  genius  of  modern  architects.  The  most  lav- 
ish luxury  was  displayed  on  all  sides  ;  not  that  solid,  quiet, 
and  harmonious  luxury  which  is  the  result  of  long  years  of 
opulence,  but  the  coarse,  loud,  and  superficial  luxury  of 
the  upstart,  who  is  eager  to  enjoy  quick,  and  in  a  hurry  to 
possess  all  that  he  has  coveted  from  others.  The  vesti- 
bule was  a  folly,  with  its  exotic  plants  cUmbing  over  crys- 
tal trellises,  and  its  Sevres  and  China  flowerstands  filled 
with  gigantic  azaleas.  And  all  along  the  gilt  rail  of  the 
stairs  marble  and  bronze  statuary  was  intermingled  with 
masses  of  flowers. 

"  It  must  cost  twenty  thousand  francs  a  year  to  keep  up 
this  conservatory  alone,"  thought  M.de  Tregars. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


269 


At  length  the  old  chambermaid  opened  a  lemonwood 
door  with  silver  lock.  "  This  is  the  drawing-room/'  she 
said.  "  Please  to  take  a  seat  whilst  I  go  and  tell  mad- 
ame." 

In  this  drawing-room  everything  had  been  combined  to 
dazzle.  Furniture,  carpets,  hangings,  everything  was  rich, 
too  rich,  furiously,  incontestibly,  obviously  rich.  The 
chandelier  was  a  masterpiece,  the  clock  an  original  and 
unique  piece  of  work.  The  pictures  hanging  upon  the 
walls  were  all  signed  with  the  most  famous  names.  "  To 
judge  of  the  rest  by  what  I  have  seen,''  thought  M.  de 
Tregars,  there  must  have  been  at  least  four  or  five  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  spent  on  this  house."  And,  although 
he  was  shocked  by  a  quantity  of  things  which  betrayed  the 
most  absolute  lack  of  taste,  he  could  hardly  persuade  him- 
self that  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  was  the 
master  of  this  sumptuous  dwelling;  and  he  was  asking 
himself  whether  he  had  not  followed  a  wrong  scent,  when 
a  circumstance  came  and  put  an  end  to  all  his  doubts. 
Upon  the  mantlepiece,  in  a  small  velvet  frame,  was  Vin- 
cent Favoral's  portrait.  M.  de  Tregars  had  been  seated 
for  a  few  minutes,  and  was  collecting  his  somewhat  scat- 
tered thoughts,  when  a  rustling  noise  made  him  turn 
round.  Madame  Zelie  Cadelle  stood  at  the  door.  She 
was  a  worn. an  twenty-five  or  six  years  old,  rather  tall,  slim, 
and  well  made.  Her  face  was  pale  and  worn  ;  and  her 
heavy  dark  hair  was  scattered  over  neck  and  shoulders. 
She  looked  at  once  sarcastic  and  good-natured,  impudent 
and  innocent,  with  her  sparkling  eyes,  her  turned-up  nose, 
and  wide  mouth  furnished  with  teeth  sound  and  white  like 
those  of  a  young  dog.  She  had  wasted  no  time  upon  her 
dress,  for  she  wore  a  plain  blue  cashmere  wrapper,  fas- 
tened at  the  waist  with  a  sort  of  silk  scarf  of  similar 
colour. 

"  Dear  me  !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  she  entered  the  room, 
"  how  very  singular  !  " 

M.  de  Tregars  stepped  forward.  "  What  is  ? "  he  in- 
quired. 

Oh,  nothing!"  she  replied,  nothing  at  all."  And 
without  ceasing  to  look  at  him  with  a  wondering  eye,  but 
suddenly  changing  her  tone  of  voice,  she  added  :  And  so, 
sir,  my  servants  have  been  unable  to  keep  you  from  fora 
ing  yourself  into  my  house  !  " 


270 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 


I  hope,  madame/'  said  M.  de  Tregars  with  a  polite 
bow,  "  that  you  will  excuse  my  persistence.  I  come  for  a 
matter  which  can  suffer  no  delay." 

She  was  still  looking  at  him  fixedly.  "  Who  are  you  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  My  name  will  not  afford  you  any  information.  I  am 
the  Marquis  de  Tregars." 

"  Tregars  !  "  she  repeated,  looking  up  at  the  ceiling,  as 
if  in  search  of  an  inspiration.  "  Tregars  !  Never  heard  of 
it."  And,  throwing  herself  into  an  armchair,  she  re- 
sumed :    ^'  Well,  sir,  what  do  you  wish  with  me  ?  Speak  !  " 

He  had  taken  a  seat  near  her,  and  kept  his  eyes  riveted 
upon  hers.  "  I  have  come,  madame,"  he  replied,  "  to  ask 
you  to  put  me  in  the  way  to  see  and  speak  to  the  man 
whose  photograph  is  there  on  the  mantelpiece." 

He  expected  to  take  her  by  surprise,  and  that  by  a 
shudder,  a  cry,  a  gesture,  she  might  betray  her  secret. 
Not  at  all.  "  Are  you,  then,  one  of  M.  Vincent's  friends  ?  " 
she  asked  quietly. 

M.  de  Tregars  understood,  and  this  was  subsequently 
confirmed,  that  it  was  under  his  christian  name  of  Vincent 
alone  that  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  was 
known  in  the  Rue  du  Cirque.  "  Yes,  I  am  a  friend  of 
his,"  he  replied  ;  "  and  if  I  could  see  him  I  could  piobably 
render  him  an  important  service." 

"Well,  you  are  too  late." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  M.  Vincent  left  the  country  more  than  twenty- 
four  hours  ago." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that  ? " 

"  As  sure  as  a  person  can  be  who  went  to  the  railway 
station  yesterday  with  him  and  all  his  luggage." 
"  You  saw  him  leave  ? 
"  As  I  see  you." 
"  Where  was  he  going  ?  " 

"  To  Havre,  to  take  the  steamer  to  Brazil,  which  was  to 
sail  that  same  day ;  so  that,  by  this  time,  he  must  be 
awfully  seasick." 

"  And  you  really  think  that  it  was  his  intention  to  go  to 
Brazil  ? " 

He  said  so.  It  was  written  on  all  his  trunks  in  letters 
half  a  foot  high.    Besides,  he  showed  me  his  ticket," 


O  THER  PEOPLE'S  MONE  Y. 


271 


"  Have  you  any  idea  what  can  have  induced  him  to  ex- 
patriate himself  thus,  at  his  age  ?  " 

"  He  told  me  that  he  had  spent  all  his  money,  and  also 
that  of  some  other  people  ;  that  he  was  afraid  of  being 
arrested  ;  and  that  he  was  going  yonder  to  be  quiet,  and 
try  to  make  another  fortune." 

Was  Madame  Zelie  speaking  the  truth  ?  To  ask  the 
question  would  have  been  rather  foolish  ;  but  an  effort 
might  be  made  to  find  out.  Carefully  concealing  his  own 
impressions,  and  the  importance  he  attached  to  this  con- 
versation, M,  de  Tregars  resumed:  I  pity  you  sincerely, 
madame,  for  you  must  be  sorely  grieved  by  this  sudden 
departure." 

"I  ! "  she  said  in  a  voice  that  came  from  the  heart.  "  I 
don't  care  a  straw." 

Marius  de  Tregars  knew  well  enough  the  ladies  of  the 
class  to  which  he  supposed  that  Madame  Zelie  Cadelle 
must  belong,  not  to  be  surprised  at  this  frank  declaration. 
"  And  yet,"  he  said,  "  you  are  indebted  to  him  for  the 
princely  magnificence  that  surrounds  you  here." 

"  Of  course." 

"  He  being  gone,  as  you  say,  will  you  be  able  to  keep 
up  your  style  of  living  ?  " 

Half  raising  herself  from  her  seat,  she  exclaimed:  "  I 
haven't  the  slightest  idea  of  doing  so.  Never  in  all  my 
life  have  I  before  had  such  a  stupid  time  as  for  the  last 
five  months  that  1  have  spent  in  this  gilded  cage.  What 
a  bore,  my  beloved  brethren  !  I  am  yawning  still  at  the 
mere  thought  of  the  number  of  times  I  have  yawned  in 
it." 

M.  de  Tregar's  gesture  of  surprise  was  the  more  natural, 
as  his  surprise  was  immense.  "  You  are  tired  of  being 
here  ?  "  he  asked, 

"  To  death  !  " 

"  And  you  have  only  been  here  five  months  ? " 

"  Dear  me,  yes !  and  by  the  merest  chance,  too,  as 
you'll  see.  One  day  at  Versailles  at  the  beginning  of  last 
December,  I  was  coming  from — but  no  matter  where  I 
was  coming  from.  At  any  rate,  I  hadn't  a  sou  in  my 
pocket,  and  nothing  but  an  old  calico  dress  on  my  back  ; 
and  I  was  going  along,  not  in  the  best  of  humour,  as  you 
may  imagine,  when  I  felt  that  some  one  was  following  me. 
Without  turning  round,  and  from  the  corner  of  my  eye,  I 


272 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


looked  over  my  shoulder,  and  I  saw  a  respectable-looking 
old  gentleman  wearing  a  long  frcck-coat.'^ 
"  M.  Vincent  ? 

^*In  his  own  natural  person,  and  who  was  walking, 
walking.  I  quietly  began  to  walk  slower  ;  and  as  soon  as 
we  came  to  a  place  where  there  was  hardly  any  one  he 
came  to  my  side.''  Something  comical  must  have  happened 
at  this  moment,  which  Madame  Zelie  Cadelle  said  nothing 
about ;  for  she  laughed  most  heartily,  a  frank  and  sonor- 
ous laugh.  "  Then,"  she  resumed,  "  he  began  at  once 
to  explain  that  I  reminded  him  of  a  person  whom  he  loved 
tenderly,  and  whom  he  had  just  had  the  misfortune  to  lose, 
adding  that  he  would  deem  himself  the  happiest  of  men,  if 
I  would  allow  him  to  take  care  of  me  and  insure  me  a 
brilliant  position." 

"  Just  like  that  rascal  Vincent ! ''  said  M.  de  Tregars, 
just  to  say  something. 

Madame  Zelie  shook  her  head.  You  know  him,"  she 
continued.  "  He  is  not  young  ;  he  is  not  handsome  ;  he 
is  not  funny.  I  did  not  fancy  him  one  bit ;  and  if  I  had 
only  known  where  to  find  shelter  for  the  night,  I'd  soon 
have  sent  him  to  old  Nick,  him  and  his  brilliant  position. 
But  not  having  enough  money  to  buy  myself  a  penny-loaf 
it  wasn't  the  time  to  put  on  any  airs.  So  I  told  him  that 
I  accepted.  He  hailed  a  cab  ;  we  got  into  it  ;  and  he 
brought  me  right  straight  here." 

M.  de  Tregars  positively  required  his  entire  self-control 
to  conceal  the  intensity  of  his  curiosity.  "  Was  this  house, 
then,  already  as  it  is  now  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Precisely,  except  that  there  were  no  servants  in  it  ex-, 
cept  the  chamber-maid,  Amanda,  who  is  M.  Vincent's  con- 
fidante. All  the  others  had  been  dismissed ;  and  it  was  a 
hostler  from  a  stable  near  by  who  looked  after  the 
horses." 

"  And  what  then  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  may  imagine  what  I  looked  like  in  the 
midst  of  all  this  magnificence,  with  my  old  shoes  and  my 
fourpenny  skirt.  Something  like  a  grease-spot  on  a  satin 
dress.  M.  Vincent  seemed  delighted,  nevertheless.  He 
had  sent  Amanda  out  to  get  me  some  underclothing  and 
a  ready-made  wrapper  ;  and  whilst  waiting  he  took  me  all 
through  the  house,  from  the  cellar  to  the  garret,  saying 
that  everything  was  at  my  command,  and  that  the  next 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


273 


day  I  would  have  a  battalion  of  servants  to  wait  on  me." 
It  was  evidently  with  perfect  frankness  that  she  was  speak- 
ing, and  with  the  pleasure  one  feels  in  telling  an  extra- 
ordinary adventure.  But  suddenly  she  stopped  short,  as 
if  discovering  that  she  was  forgetting  herself  and  going 
farther  than  was  proper.  And  it  was  only  after  a  moment 
of  reflection  that  she  resumed  :  "It  was  like  fairyland  to 
me.  I  had  never  tasted  the  opulence  of  the  great,  you  see, 
and  I  had  never  had  any  money,  except  that  which  I 
earned.  So  during  the  first  days  I  did  nothing  but  run 
up  and  down  stairs  admiring  everything,  feeling  everything 
with  my  own  hands,  and  looking  at  myself  in  the  glass  to 
make  sure  that  I  was  not  dreaming.  I  rang  the  bell  just 
to  make  the  servants  come  up  ;  I  spent  hours  trying  on 
dresses ;  then  I'd  have  the  horses  put  to  the  carriage,  and 
either  drive  to  the  Bois,  or  go  out  shopping.  M.  Vincent 
gave  me  as  much  money  as  I  wanted ;  and  it  seemed  as 
though  I  never  spent  enough.  In  short,  I  was  like  a  mad 
woman."  A  cloud  appeared  upon  Madame  Zelie's  counte- 
nance, and  changing  suddenly  her  tone,  she  continued  : 
"  Unfortunately,  one  gets  tired  of  everything.  At  the  end 
of  two  weeks  I  know  the  house  from  top  to  bottom,  and 
after  a  month  I  was  sick  of  the  whole  thing  ;  so  that  one 
night  I  began  dressing.  '  Where  do  you  want  to  go  to  ? ' 
Amanda  asked  me.  '  Why,  to  Mabille  to  dance  a  quad- 
rille or  two.' — *  Impossible  ! ' — *  Why  ?  ' — '  Because  M. 
Vincent  does  not  wish  you  to  go  out  at  night.' — *  We'll 
see  about  that ! '  The  next  day  I  told  all  this  to  M.  Vin- 
cent ;  and  he  said  that  Amanda  was  right ;  that  it  was  not 
proper  for  a  woman  in  my  position  to  frequent  public 
balls ;  and  that,  if  I  went  out  at  night  I  should  not  come 
in  again.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  the  fine  carriage  and  all 
that,  I  would  have  cleared  out  that  very  minute.  Any 
way,  I  became  disgusted  from  that  moment  and  have  been 
more  and  more  so  ever  since  ;  and  if  M.  Vincent  had  not 
himself  left  I  certainly  would  have  bolted." 
"  To  go  where  ?  " 

"  Anywhere.  Look  here,  now  !  do  you  suppose  I  need 
a  man  to  support  me  ?  No,  thank  goodness  !  Little  Zelie, 
here  present,  has  only  to  apply  to  any  dressmaker,  and 
she  would  be  glad  to  give  her  four  francs  a  day  to  work 
the  machine.  And  she  would  at  least  be  free ;  and  she 
could  laugh  and  dance  as  much  as  she  liked." 
18 


274 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


M.  de  Tregars  saw  that  he  had  made  a  mistake.  Mad- 
ame ZeUe  Cadelle  was  certainly  not  particularly  virtuous ; 
but  she  was  far  from  being  the  woman  he  had  expected  to 
meet.      At  any  rate,"  he  said,    "  you  did  well  to  wait 
patiently." 

"  I  do  not  regret  it." 

"  If  this  house  now  belongs  to  you — " 

She  interrupted  him  with  a  loud  burst  of  laughter. 

This  house  !  "  she  exclaimed.  Why,  it  was  sold  some 
days  ago,  with  everything  in  it,  furniture,  horses,  carriages, 
everything  except  myself.  A  young  gentleman,  rather  a 
swell,  has  bought  it  for  a  tall  girl  who  looks  like  a  goose 
and  is  as  dry  as  a  stick,  and  who  carries  over  a  thousand 
francs'  worth  of  red  hair  on  her  head." 
Are  you  sure  of  that  ? " 

"  Sure  as  I  live,  having  seen  with  my  own  eyes  the 
young  swell  and  his  red-headed  friend  hand  heaps  of 
bank-notes  to  M.  Vincent.  They  are  to  move  in  on  the 
day  after  to-morrow  ;  and  they  have  invited  me  to  the 
house-warming.  But  no  more  of  it  for  me,  thank  you  ! 
I  am  sick  and  tired  of  all  these  people.  And  the  proof  of  it 
is,  I  am  busy  packing  up  my  belongings ;  and  lots  of  them 
I  have  too,  dresses,  underclothes,  jewellery.  He  was  a 
good-natured  fellow,  old  Vincent  was,  anyhow.  He  gave 
me  money  enough  to  buy  some  furniture.  I  have  taken  a 
small  apartment  in  the  Rue  St.  Lazare  ;  and  I  am  going 
to  set  up  in  the  dressmaking  line  on  my  own  hook.  And 
won't  we  laugh  then  !  and  won't  we  have  some  fun  to 
make  up  for  lost  time  !  Come,  my  children,  take  your 
places  for  the  quadrille  ! "  And,  bouncing  out  of  her 
chair,  she  began  one  of  those  bold  cancan  steps  which 
astound  the  policemen  on  duty  in  the  ball-rooms. 

"  Bravo  !  "  cried  M.  de  Tregars,  forcing  himself  to  smile, 

bravo  !  "  He  saw  clearly  now  what  sort  of  woman  was 
Madame  Zelie  Cadelle  ;  how  he  should  speak  to  her,  and 
what  chords  he  might  yet  cause  to  vibrate  within  her. 
He  recognized  the  true  daughter  of  Paris,  wayward  and 
nervous,  who  in  the  midst  of  her  disorders,  preserves  an 
instinctive  pride  ;  who  places  her  independence  far  above 
all  the  money  in  the  world  ;  who  gives  rather  than  sells 
herself  ;  who  knows  no  law  but  her  caprice,  no  morality 
but  the  policeman,  no  religion  but  pleasure.  As  soon  as 
she  returned  to  her  seat,  he  resumed  :    You  are  dancing 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


275 


gaily,  and  poor  Vincent  is  doubtless  bewailing  at  this 
moment  his  separation  from  you/^ 

"  Ah  !  I'd  pity  him  if  I  had  time  !  "  she  said. 

"  He  was  fond  of  you  ?  " 

"  Don't  speak  of  it." 

"  If  he  had  not  been  fond  of  you,  he  would  not  have 
placed  you  here." 

Madame  Zelie  made  a  grimace  of  equivocal  meaning. 
"That  is  not  much  of  a  proof,"  she  murmured. 

"  He  would  not  have  spent  so  much  money  on  you." 

"For  me!"  she  interrupted,  "for  me!  What  have  I 
cost  him  of  any  consequence  t  Is  it  for  me  that  he  bought, 
furnished,  and  fitted  out  this  house  1  No,  no !  He  had 
the  cage ;  and  he  put  in  a  bird,  the  first  he  happened  to 
find.  He  brought  me  here  as  he  might  have  brought  any 
other  woman,  young  or  old,  pretty  or  ugly,  blonde  or  bru- 
nette. As  to  what  I  spent  here  it  was  a  mere  bagatelle 
compared  with  what  the  other  spent, — the  one  before  me. 
Amanda  kept  telling  me  all  the  time  I  was  a  fool.  You 
may  believe  me,  then,  when  I  tell  you  that  M.  Vincent 
will  not  wet  many  handkerchiefs  with  the  tears  he'll  shed 
thinking  of  me." 

"  But  do  you  know  what  became  of  the  one  before  you, 
as  you  call  her,  whether  she  is  alive  or  dead,  and  owing  to 
what  circumstances  the  cage  became  empty  ?  " 

But  instead  of  answering,  Madame  Zelie  fixed  upon 
Marius  de  Tregars  a  suspicious  glance.  And,  after  a  mo- 
ment she  said  :  "  Why  do  you  ask  me  that  ?  " 

"  I  would  like  to  know — " 

She  did  not  allow  him  to  proceed.  Rising  from  her 
seat  and  stepping  briskly  up  to  him,  she  asked  in  a  tone 
of  distrust :    "  Do  you  happen  to  belong  to  the  police  ?  " 

If  she  was  anxious,  it  was  evidently  because  she  had 
motives  of  anxiety  which  she  had  concealed,  a  secret 
which  she  desired  to  keep.  If  the  idea  of  police  had 
come  into  her  mind  it  was  because  very  probably,  she  had 
been  recommended  to  be  on  her  guard.  M.  de  Tregars 
understood  all  this,  and  also  that  he  had  tried  to  proceed 
too  fast.  "  Do  I  look  like  a  detective  ?  "  he  replied  with  a 
forced  smile. 

She  examined  him  with  all  her  power  of  penetration. 
"  Not  at  all,  I  confess,"  she  said.  "  But,  if  you  are  not 
one  how  is  it  that  you  come  to  my  house  without  knowing 


276 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


me  from  Adam,  to  ask  me  a  whole  lot  of  questions  which 
I  am  fool  enough  to  answer  ?  " 

"  I  told  you  I  am  a  friend  of  M.  Favoral." 

"  Who's  that,  Favoral  ?  " 

"  That  is  M.  Vincent's  real  name,  madame." 

She  opened  her  eyes  wide.  You  must  be  mistaken. 
I  never  heard  him  called  anything  but  Vincent/' 

It  is  because  he  had  especial  motives  for  concealing 
his  personality.  The  money  he  spent  here  did  not  belong 
to  him,  he  took  it,  he  stole  it  from  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank 
where  he  was  cashier,  and  where  he  has  left  a  deficit  of 
twelve  millions." 

Madame  Zelie  stepped  back  as  though  she  had  trodden 
on  a  snake.    "  It's  impossible  !  "  she  cried. 

"  It  is  the  exact  truth.  Haven't  you  seen  in  the  papers 
the  case  of  Vincent  Favoral,  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit 
Bank  ?  "  And,  taking  a  newspaper  from  his  pocket,  he 
handed  it  to  the  young  woman,  saying,  "  Read." 

But  she  pushed  it  back,  not  without  a  slight  blush. 
"  Oh,  I  believe  you  !  "  she  said.  The  fact  is,  and  Marius 
understood  it,  she  did  not  read  very  fluently. 

"  The  worst  of  M.  Vincent  Favoral's  conduct,''  he  re- 
sumed, "  is,  that,  while  he  was  throwing  away  money  here 
by  the  handful,  he  subjected  his  family  to  the  most  cruel 
privations." 

^'Oh!'' 

"  He  refused  the  necessaries  of  life  to  his  wife,  the  best 
and  the  worthiest  of  women  ;  he  never  gave  a  sou  to  his 
son  ;  and  he  deprived  his  daughter  of  everything." 

"  Ah,  if  I  could  have  suspected  such  a  thing !  "  mur- 
mured Madame  Zelie. 

"  Finally,  and  to  cap  the  climax,  he  has  gone,  leaving 
his  wife  and  children  literally  without  bread." 

Why,  that  man  must  be  a  horrible  old  scoundrel  !  " 
exclaimed  the  young  woman  indignantly. 

This  was  just  the  point  to  which  M.  de  Tregars  wished 
to  bring  her.  "  And  now,"  he  resumed,  "  you  must  un- 
derstand the  enormous  interest  we  have  in  knowing  what 
has  become  of  him." 

"  I  have  already  told  you." 

M.  de  Tregars  had  risen,  in  his  turn.  Taking  Madame 
Zelie's  hands,  he  fixed  upon  her  one  of  those  penetrating 
looks,  which  search  for  the  truth  down  to  the  innermost 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


277 


recesses  of  the  conscience  :  "  Come,  my  dear  child,  he 
pleaded,  you  are  an  honest  girl.  Will  you  leave  in  the 
most  frightful  despair  a  family  who  appeal  to  your  heart  ? 
Be  sure  that  no  harm  will  ever  happen  through  us  to  Vin- 
cent Favoral." 

She  raised  her  hand,  as  is  done  in  taking  an  oath  in  a 
French  court  of  justice,  and,  in  a  solemn  tone,  she  said  ; 
"  I  swear  that  I  went  to  the  railway  station  with  M.  Vin- 
cent ;  that  he  assured  me  that  he  was  going  to  Brazil ; 
that  he  had  his  passage-ticket ;  and  that  on  all  his  luggage 
was  marked,  '  Rio  de  Janeiro/ 

The  disappointment  was  great;  and  M.  de  Tregars 
manifested  it  by  a  gesture.  "  At  least,"  he  insisted,  "  tell 
me  who  the  woman  was  whose  place  you  took  here." 

But  already  had  the  young  woman  returned  to  her  feel- 
ing of  mistrust.  "  How  in  the  world  do  you  expect  me  to 
know  ?  "  she  replied.  "  Go  and  ask  Amanda.  I  have  no 
accounts  to  render  you.  Besides,  I  have  to  go  and  finish 
packing  my  trunks.  So  good-bye,  and  enjoy  yourself  !  " 
And  she  went  out  so  quick,  that  she  almost  upset  Amanda, 
the  chambermaid,  who  was  kneeling  behind  the  door. 

So  that  woman  was  listening,  thought  M.  de  Tregars, 
anxious  and  dissatisfied.  But  it  was  in  vain  that  he  begged 
Madame  Zelie  to  return,  and  hear  a  single  word  more. 
She  disappeared ;  and  he  was  obliged  to  leave  the  house 
without  learning  anything  more  for  the  moment.  He  had 
remained  there  very  long  ;  and  he  was  wondering,  as  he 
walked  out,  whether  Maxence  had  not  got  tired  waiting 
for  him  in  the  little  cafe  where  he  had  left  him.  But 
Maxence  had  remained  faithfully  at  his  post.  And  when 
Marius  de  Tregars  came  to  sit  by  him,  whilst  exclaiming, 
"  Here  you  are  at  last !  "  he  called  his  attention  at  the 
same  time  with  a  wink  to  two  men  sitting  at  the  adjoining 
table  before  a  bowl  of  punch.  Certain  now,  that  M.  de 
Tregars  would  remain  on  the  lookout,  Maxence  knocked 
on  the  table  with  his  fist,  to  call  the  waiter,  who  was  busy 
playing  billiards  with  a  customer.  And  when  he  came  at 
last,  justly  annoyed  at  being  disturbed,  Maxence  requested 
him  to  bring  some  beer  and  a  pack  of  cards. 

M.  de  Tregars  understood  very  well  that  something  ex- 
traordinary had  happened  ;  but,  unable  to  guess  what,  he 
leaned  over  towards  Jiis  companion.  "  What  is  h?"  he 
whispered 


278 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  We  must  hear  what  these  two  men  say  while  we  pre- 
tend to  play  a  game  of  piquet." 

The  waiter  returned,  bringing  two  glasses  of  a  muddy 
liquid,  a  piece  of  cloth,  the  colour  of  which  was  concealed 
under  a  layer  of  dirt,  and  a  pack  of  cards  horribly  soft  and 
greasy. 

"  My  deal,"  said  Maxence.  And  he  shuffled  and  dealt 
the  cards,  whilst  M.  de  Tregars  examined  the  punch-drink- 
ers at  the  next  table.  In  one  of  the  two,  a  man  still  young, 
wearing  a  striped  vest  with  alpaca  sleeves,  he  thought  he 
recognized  one  of  the  rascally-looking  fellows  he  had 
caught  a  glimpse  of  in  Madame  Zelie  Cadelle's  coach-house. 
The  other,  an  old  man,  whose  inflamed  complexion  and  blos- 
soming nose  betrayed  old  habits  of  drunkenness,  looked 
very  much  like  a  coachman  out  of  place.  Baseness  and 
duplicity  bloomed  upon  his  countenance  ;  and  the  bright- 
ness of  his  small  eyes  rendered  still  more  alarming  the 
slyly  obsequious  smile  that  was  stereotyped  upon  his  thin 
and  pale  lips.  They  were  so  completely  absorbed  in  their 
conversation,  that  they  paid  no  attention  whatever  to  what 
was  going  on  around  them. 

"  Then,"  the  old  one  was  saying,  "  it's  all  over." 

"  Entirely.    The  house  is  sold." 

"And  the  master  ?  " 

"  Gone  to  America." 

"  What !   Suddenly  like  that !  " 

"No.  We  supposed  he  was  going  on  some  journey, 
because,  every  day  since  the  beginning  of  the  week,  they 
were  bringing  in  trunks  and  boxes ;  but  no  one  knew  ex- 
actly when  he  would  go.  But  on  Saturday  night  he  dropped 
in  the  house  like  a  bombshell,  woke  up  everybody,  and 
said  he  must  leave  immediately.  At  once  we  harness  the 
horses,  we  drive  him  and  his  luggage  to  the  Western  Rail- 
way Station,  and  good-bye,  Vincent !  " 

"  And  the  missis  ?  " 

"  She's  got  to  clear  out  the  next  twenty-four  hours  ;  but 
she  don't  seem  to  mind  it  one  bit.  The  fact  is,  we  are  the 
ones  who  grieve  the  most,  after  all." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  " 

"  It  is  so.  She  was  a  good  girl ;  and  we  won't  soon 
find  one  like  her." 

The  old  man  seemed  distressed.  "  Bad  luck !  "  he 
growled.    "I  would  have  liked  that  house  myself." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


279 


"  Oh,  I  dare  say  you  would." 

"  And  there  is  no  way  of  getting  in  now  ? " 

"  Can't  tell.  It  will  be  well  to  see  the  others,  the  new 
comers.  But  I  mistrust  them  ;  they  look  too  stupid  not  to  be 
mean.'* 

Listening  intently  to  the  conversation  of  these  two  men, 
it  was  mechanically  and  at  random  that  M.  de  Tregars  and 
Maxence  threw  their  cards  on  the  table,  and  uttered  the 
common  terms  of  the  game  of  piquet :  *^  Five  cards ! 
Quart  major !    Three  aces." 

Meantime  the  old  man  continued  :  "  Who  knows  but 
what  M.  Vincent  may  come  back  ? " 

"  No  danger  of  that !  " 

"  Why  ? " 

The  other  looked  careiully  around,  and,  seeing  only  two 
players  absorbed  in  their  game,  he  replied  :  "  Because  M. 
Vincent  is  completely  ruined,  it  seems.  He  has  spent  all 
his  own  money,  and  a  good  deal  of  other  people's  money 
besides.  Amanda,  the  chambermaid,  told  us  so,  and  I  am 
sure  she  knows." 

You  thought  he  was  so  rich  ! " 

"  He  was.  But  no  matter  how  big  the  bag  is,  if  you 
keep  taking  out  of  it,  you  must  at  last  get  to  the  bottom." 

"  Then  he  spent  a  great  deal  ? " 

"  It's  incredible  !  I  have  been  in  extravagant  houses  ; 
but  nowhere  have  I  ever  seen  money  fly  as  it  has  during 
the  five  months  that  I  have  been  in  that  house.  A  regular 
pillage  !  Everybody  helped  themselves  ;  and  what  was 
not  in  the  house,  they  could  get  from  the  tradespeople, 
have  it  charged  on  the  bill ;  and  it  was  all  paid  without  a 
word." 

''Then,  yes,  indeed,  the  money  must  have  gone  pretty 
lively,"  said  the  old  fellow  in  a  tone  of  conviction. 

"Well,"  rejoined  the  other,  that  wasn't  the  worst. 
Amanda,  the  chambermaid,  who  has  been  in  the  house 
fifteen  years,  told  us  some  stories  that  would  make  you 
jump.  Zelie  did  not  spend  much  ;  but  some  of  the  others, 
it  seems — " 

It  required  the  greatest  effort  on  the  part  of  Maxence 
and  M.  de  Tregars  not  to  play,  but  only  to  pretend  to  pla}^ 
and  to  continue  to  count  imaginary  points,  One,  two. 
three,  four." 


28o 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


Fortunately  the  coachman  with  the  red  nose  seemed 
much  interested.      What  others  ?    he  ^ked. 

Oh,  I  don't  know,"  replied  the  young  valel.  "  But  you 
may  imagine  that  there  must  have  been  more  than  one  in 
that  little  house  during  the  many  years  that  M.  Vincent 
owned  it.  A  man  who  hadn't  his  equal  for  women,  and 
who  was  worth  millions  ! " 

And  what  was  his  business  ?  " 
^'  Don't  know  that  either/' 

^'  What !  there  were  ten  of  you  in  the  house  and  you  didn't 
know  the  profession  of  the  man  who  paid  you  all  ?  " 
We  were  all  new." 

The  chambermaid,  Amanda,  must  have  known." 

When  she  was  asked,  she  said  that  he  was  a  merchant. 
One  thing  is  certain,  he  was  a  queer  old  chap." 

So  interested  was  the  old  coachman,  that,  seeing  the 
punch-bowl  empty,  he  called  for  another.  His  comrade 
could  not  fail  to  show  his  appreciation  of  such  politeness. 
"  Ah,  yes  !  "  he  went  on,  old  Vincent  was  aoeccentric 
fellow  ;  and  never,  to  see  him,  could  you  have  suspected 
that  he  cut  such  capers,  and  that  he  threw  money  away  by 
the  handful." 

Indeed  !  " 

"  Imagine  a  man  about  fifty  years  old,  stiff  as  a  post, 
with  a  face  about  as  pleasant  as  a  prison-gate.  That  was 
the  governor  !  Summer  and  winter,  he  wore  laced  shoes, 
blue  stockings,  grey  trousers  that  w^re  too  short,  a  cotton 
necktie,  and  a  frock-coat  that  came  down  to  his  ankles. 
In  the  street  you  would  have  taken  him  for  a  hosier  who 
had  retired  before  making  his  fortune." 

''You  don't  say  so  !  " 

"  Never  have  I  seen  a  man  look  so  much  like  an  old 
miser.  You  think,  perhaps,  that  he  came  in  a  carriage. 
Not  a  bit  of  it !  He  came  on  the  omnibus,  my  boy,  and 
outside  too,  for  three  sous ;  and  when  it  rained  he  opened 
his  umbrella.  But  the  moment  he  had  crossed  the  thresh- 
old of  the  house,  presto,  pass  !  complete  change  of  scene. 
The  miser  became  pacha.  He  took  off  his  old  clothes,  put 
on  a  blue  velvet  dressing-gown ;  and  then  there  was  noth- 
ing handsome  enough,  nothing  good  enough,  nothing  ex- 
pensive enough,  for  him.  And,  when  he  had  acted  the 
wealthy  lord  to  his  heart's  content,  he  put  on  his  old  clothes 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


281 


again,  resumed  his  prison-gate  face,  climbed  up  on  to  the 
top  of  an  omnibus,  and  went  off  as  he  came/' 

*'And  you  were  not  surprised,  all  of  you,  at  such  a 
life  ? 

Very  much  so" 

"  And  you  did  not  think  that  these  singular  whims  must 
conceal  something  ?  " 

"  Oh,  but  we  did  !  " 
And  you  didn't  try  to  find  out  what  that  something 
was  ?  " 

"  How  could  we  ?  " 

"  Was  it  very  difficult  to  follow  your  governor,  and  ascer- 
tain where  he  went,  after  leaving  the  house  ?  " 
"  Certainly  not ;  but  what  then  ?  " 

"  Why,"  replied  the  old  coachman  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders, ^'  you  would  have  found  out  this  secret  sooner  or 
later;  and  then  you  might  have  gone  to  him  and  said: 
'  Give  me  so  much,  or  I'll  peach.'  " 


IV. 

This  history  of  M.  Vincent,  as  told  by  the  two  worthy 
fellows,  was  something  like  the  vulgar  legend  of  other 
people's  money,  so  eagerly  coveted,  and  so  madly  dissi- 
pated. Easily-obtained  wealth  is  easily  got  rid  of.  Stolen 
money  has  fatal  tendencies,  and  turns  irresistibly  to  gamb- 
ling and  fast  women,  all  the  ruinous  fancies,  all  the  un- 
wholesome gratifications.  Those  to  whom  their  ill-goljten 
gain  proves  of  real  service  are  rare  indeed  among  the 
daring  cut-throats  of  speculation;  so  rare  that  they  are 
pointed  out,  and  are  as  easily  numbered  as  the  girls  who 
leap  some  night  from  the  street  to  a  ten-thousand-franc 
apartment,  and  manage  to  remain  there.  Seized  with  the 
intoxication  of  sudden  wealth,  they  lose  all  measure  and 
all  prudence.  Whether  they  believe  their  luck  inexhausti- 
ble, or  fear  a  sudden  turn  of  fortune,  they  make  haste  to 
enjoy  themselves,  and  they  fill  the  noted  restaurants,  the 
leading  cafes,  the  theatres,  the  clubs,  the  race-courses, 
with'their  impudent  personality,  the  noise  of  their  voice, 
the  extravagance  of  their  mistresses  and  the  absurdity  of 
their  vanity.  And  they  go  on  and  on,  squandering  other 
people's  money,  until  the  fatal  hour  of  one  of  those  dis* 


282 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


dstrous  liquidations  which  terrify  the  courts  and  the  ex- 
change ;  until  the  moment  when  they  have  the  choice 
between  a  pistol-shot,  which  they  never  choose,  the 
criminal  court,  which  they  do  their  best  to  avoid,  and 
a  trip  abroad.  What  becomes  of  them  afterwards  ? 
Into  what  gutters  do  they  eventually  roll  ?  Does  any 
one  know  what  becomes  of  the  women  who  suddenly 
disappear,  after  two  or  three  years  of  follies  and  of  splen- 
dours ?  But  it  happens  sometimes,  as  you  step  out  of  a 
carriage  at  the  entrance  of  some  theatre,  that  you  wonder 
where  you  have  already  seen  the  face  of  the  wretched 
beggar  who  opens  the  door  for  you,  and  in  a  husky  voice 
claims  his  two  sous.  You  saw  him  at  the  Cafe  Riche, 
during  the  six  months  that  he  was  a  big  financier.  Some 
other  time  you  may  catch,  in  the  crowd,  snatches  of  a 
strange  conversation  between  two  drunken  scoundrels: 
"  It  was  at  the  time,"  says  one,  "  when  I  had  that  pair  of 
bright  chestnuts  that  I  bought  for  twenty  thousand  francs 
of  the  eldest  son  of  the  Duke  de  Sermeuse."  "  I  remem- 
ber," replies  the  other;  "for  at  that  moment  I  was  allow- 
ing little  Cabirole  six  thousand  francs  a  month."  And, 
improbable  as  this  may  seem,  it  is  the  exact  truth  ;  for  one 
was  manager  of  a  manufacturing  enterprise  that  swallowed 
up  ten  millions,  and  the  other  was  at  the  head  of  a  finan- 
cial operation  that  ruined  five  hundred  families.  They 
had  houses  like  the  one  in  the  Rue  du  Cirque,  mistresses 
more  expensive  than  Madame  Zelie  Cadelle,  and  servants 
like  those  who  were  talking  within  a  few  steps  of  Maxence 
and  Marius  de  Tregars. 

The  two  men  had  resumed  their  conversation  ;  and  the 
old  one,  the  coachman  with  the  red  nose,  was  saying  to 
his  younger  comrade  :  "  This  Vincent  affair  should  be  a 
lesson  to  you.  If  ever  you  find  yourself  again  in  a  house 
where  so  much  money  is  spent,  remember  that  it  cannot 
have  given  much  trouble  to  earn,  and  manage  somehow  to 
get  as  big  a  share  of  it  as  you  can." 

"  That's  what  I've  always  done  wherever  I  have  been." 

"  And,  above  all,  make  haste  to  fill  your  pockets,  be- 
cause, you  see,  in  houses  like  that,  one  is  never  sure  one 
day,  whether  the  next,  the  gentleman  will  not  be  in  Mazas, 
and  the  lady  in  St.  Lazare."  They  had  finished  their 
second  bowl  of  punch,  so  they  paid,  and  left. 

Maxence  and  M.  de  Tregars  were  able,  at  last,  to 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY.  283 

throw  down  their  cards.  Maxence  was  very  pale  ;  and 
bitter  tears  filled  his  eyes.  ^'  What  a  disgrace  !  "  he  mur- 
mured. This,  then,  is  the  other  side  of  my  father's  exist- 
ence !  This  is  the  way  in  which  he  spent  the  millions 
which  he  stole ;  whilst,  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  he  deprived 
his  family  of  the  necessaries  of  life  !  "  And,  in  a  tone  of 
utter  discouragement,  he  added :  "  Now  it  is  indeed  all 
over,  and  it  is  useless  to  continue  our  search.  My  father 
is  certainly  guilty." 

But  M.  de  Tregars  was  not  the  man  thus  to  give  up  the 
game.      Guilty     Yes,''  he  said  ;  "  but  dupe  also." 

"  Whose  dupe  t  " 
That's  what  we  must  try  to  find  out." 
What !  after  what  we  have  just  heard  t  " 

"  I  have  more  hope  than  ever." 

"  Did  you  learn  anything  then  from  Madame  Zelie 
Cadelle  ? " 

Nothing  more  than  you  know  by  those  two  rascal's 
conversation."  A  dozen  questions  were  pressing  upon 
Maxence's  lips ;  but  M.  de  Tregars  resumed :  In  this 
case,  my  friend,  we  must  not  trust  appearances.  Let  me 
explain.  Was  your  father  a  simpleton  ?  No  !  His  ability 
to  dissimulate  for  years,  his  double  existence,  prove,  on 
the  contrary,  a  wonderful  amount  of  duplicity.  How  is  it, 
then,  that  latterly  his  conduct  has  been  so  extraordinary 
and  so  absurd  ?  You  will  perhaps  say  it  was  always  such. 
But  no  ;  for  then  his  secret  would  not  have  been  one  for 
a  year.  We  hear  that  other  women  lived  in  that  house 
before  Madame  Zelie  Cadelle ;  but  that  is  only  a  rumour. 
Who  were  they  ?  What  has  become  of  them  ?  Is  there 
any  certainty  that  they  ever  existed }  Nothing  proves  it. 
The  servants  having  been  all  changed,  Amanda,  the  cham- 
bermaid, is  the  only  one  who  knows  the  truth ;  and  she 
will  be  very  careful  to  say  nothing  about  it.  I'herefore, 
all  our  positive  information  goes  back  no  farther  than  five 
months.  And  what  do  we  learn  ?  That  your  father  seemed 
to  try  and  make  his  extravagant  expenditure  as  conspicu- 
ous as  possible.  That  he  did  not  even  take  the  trouble 
to  conceal  the  source  of  the  money  he  spent  so  profusely ; 
for  he  told  Madame  Zelie  that  he  was  at  the  end  of  his 
tether,  and  that,  after  having  spent  his  own  fortune,  he 
was  spending  other  people's  money.  He  announced  his 
intended  departure  some  days  before  it  took  place ;  he 


284  O  THER  PE  OPLE'S  MONE  Y. 

had  sold  the  house,  and  received  its  price.  Finally,  at 
the  last  moment,  what  does  he  do  ?  Instead  of  going  off 
quietly  and  secretly,  like  a  man  who  is  running  away  and 
who  knows  that  he  is  pursued,  he  tells  every  one  where 
he  intends  to  go ;  he  writes  it  on  all  his  trunks,  in  letters 
half  a  foot  high ;  and  then  rides  in  great  display  to  the 
railway  station,  with  a  woman,  several  carriages,  servants, 
and  I  don't  know  how  many  trunks.  What  is  the  object 
of  all  this  ?  To  get  caught  ?  No ;  but  to  start  a  false 
scent.  Therefore,  everything  must  have  been  arranged  in 
his  mind  beforehand,  and  the  catastrophe  was  far  from 
taking  him  by  surprise  ;  the  scene  with  M.  de  Thaller 
must  have  been  prepared  ;  and  it  must  have  been  on  pur- 
pose that  he  left  his  pocket-book  behind,  with  the  bill  in 
it  that  was  to  lead  us  straight  here.  All  we  have  seen 
therefore  is  but  a  transparent  comedy  got  up  for  our  spe- 
cial benefit,  intended  to  hide  the  truth  and  mislead  the 
law.'' 

But  Maxence  was  not  entirely  convinced.  "  Still,"  he 
remarked,  "  thos^  enormous  expenses." 

M.  de  Tregars  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Have  you 
any  idea,"  he  asked,  "  what  display  can  be  made  with  a 
million  ?  Let  us  admit  that  your  father  has  spent  two, 
four  millions  even.  The  loss  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank 
is  twelve  millions.  What  has  become  of  the  other  eight  ?  " 
And  as  Maxence  made  no  answer.  "  It  is  those  eight 
millions,"  he  added,  that  I  want  and  that  I  shall  have. 
It  is  in  Paris  that  your  father  is  hiding,  I  feel  certain.  We 
must  find  him  ;  and  we  must  make  him  tell  us  the  truth, 
which  I  already  more  than  suspect."  Whereupon,  throw- 
ing on  the  table  the  price  of  the  beer  which  he  had  not 
drank,  he  walked  out  of  the  cafe  with  Maxence. 

"Here  you  are  at  last !  '  exclaimed  the  cabman,  who 
had  been  waiting  at  the  corner  for  over  three  hours  a  prey 
to  the  utmost  anxiety.  But  M.  de  Tregars  had  no  time 
for  explanations  ;  and  pushing  Maxence  into  the  cab  he 
jumped  in  after  him,  saying  to  the  driver :  "  24  Rue 
Joquelet.  Drive  fast  and  you  shall  have  five  francs  extra 
for  yourself."  A  driver  who  expects  an  extra  five  francs, 
always  has  for  five  minutes  at  least  a  horse  as  fast  as  Gladi- 
ateur. 

"  What  is  most  important  for  us  now,"  said  M.  de  Tre- 
gars  to  Maxence  as  the  cab  was  speeding  on  to  its  destina 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 


tion,  "  is  to  ascertain  how  far  the  crisis  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank  has  progressed ;  and  M.  Lattermann  of  the 
Rue  Joquelet  is  the  man  in  all  Paris  who  can  best  inform 
us." 

Whoever  has  made  or  lost  five  hundred  francs  on  the 
Bourse  knows  M.  Lattermann  who,  since  the  war,  calls 
himself  an  Alsatian,  and  curses  with  a  fearful  accent  those 
parparous  "  Prussians.  This  worthy  speculator  modestly 
calls  himself  a  money  changer  ;  but  he  would  be  a  simple- 
ton who  should  ask  him  for  change.  It  is  certainly  not 
that  sort  of  business  which  returns  him  the  three  hundred 
thousand  francs'  profits  which  he  pockets  every  year. 
When  a  company  has  failed,  when  it  has  been  wound  up 
and  the  defrauded  shareholders  have  received  two  or  three 
per  cent  in  all  on  their  original  investsments,  there  is  a 
prevailing  idea  that  the  certificates  of  its  shares  are  no 
longer  good  for  anything  except  to  light  the  fire.  That's 
a  mistake.  Long  after  the  company  has  ceased  to  exist, 
its  shares  float  like  die  wreckage  which  the  sea  casts  upon 
the  beach  months  after  the  ship  has  foundered.  These 
shares  M.  Lattermann  collects  and  carefully  stores  away  ; 
and  upon  the  shelves  of  his  ofiice  you  may  see  boxes  con- 
taining innumerable  shares  and  bonds  of  those  various 
companies  which  have  absorbed  in  the  past  twenty  years, 
according  to  some  statistics,  twelve  hundred  millions,  and 
according  to  others,  two  milliards  of  the  public  fortune. 
Say  but  a  word,  and  his  clerks  will  offer  you  some  "  Fran- 
co-Servian Company,"  some  Steam  Navigation  Company 
oi  M^^rseilles,"  some  "  Coal  and  Metal  Company  of  the 
Asturins,"  some  Trans-continental  Memphis  and  El  Paso 
(United  States),"  some  "  Caumon  Slate  Works,"  and  hun- 
dreds of  others  which,  for  the  general  public  have  no 
value,  save  that  of  old  paper,  which  is  from  three  to  five 
sous  a  pound.  And  yet  speculators  are  found  who  buy 
and  sell  these  rags.  In  an  obscure  corner  of  the  Bourse 
may  be  seen  a  miscellaneous  population  of  old  men  with 
pointed  beards,  and  overdressed  young  men,  who  deal  in 
everything  saleable  and  other  things  besides.  There  are 
found  foreign  merchants,  who  will  offer  you  businesses  for 
sale,  a  bankrupt's  stock  in  trade,  good  claims  to  recover, 
and  who  at  last  will  take  out  of  their  pockets  an  opera- 
glass,  a  Geneva  watch  smuggled  in,  a  revolver,  or  a  bottle 
of  patent  hair-restorer.    Such  is  the  market  to  which  drift 


286 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


those  shares  which  were  once  issued  to  represent  millions, 
and  which  now  represent  nothing  but  a  palpable  proof  of 
the  audacity  of  swindlers,  and  the  credulity  of  their  dupes. 
And  there  are  actually  buyers  for  these  shares,  and  they 
go  up  or  down,  according  to  the  ordinary  lav/s  of  supply 
and  demand  ;  for  there  is  a  demand  for  them,  and  here 
comes  in  the  usefulness  of  M.  Lattermann's  business. 
Does  a  tradesman  on  the  eve  of  declaring  himself  bank- 
rupt wish  to  defraud  his  creditors  of  a  part  of  his  assets, 
to  conceal  excessive  expenses  or  cover  up  some  embezzle- 
ment, he  at  once  goes  to  the  Rue  Joquelet,  procures  a 
select  assortment  of Cantonal  Credit,"  "  Rossdorff  Mines," 
or  "  Maumusson  Salt  Works,"  and  puts  them  carefully 
away  in  his  safe.  And  when  the  receiver  arrives,  "  There 
are  my  assets,"  he  says.  "  I  have  there  some  twenty,  fifty, 
or  a  hundred  thousand  francs'  worth  of  shares,  the  whole 
of  which  is  not  worth  five  francs  to-day  ;  but  it  isn't  my 
fault.  I  thought  them  a  good  investment ;  and  I  didn't 
sell  when  there  was  a  chance  of  doing  so,  because  I  always 
thought  the  price  wold  go  up  again."  And  he  gets  his  dis- 
charge, for  it  would  really  be  too  cruel  to  punish  a  man 
simply  because  he  has  made  unfortunate  investments. 
Better  than  any  M.  Lattermann  knows  for  what  purpose  are 
purchased  the  valueless  securities  which  he  sells  ;  and  he 
actually  advises  his  customers  which  to  take  in  preference  in 
order  that  their  purchase  at  the  time  of  their  issue  may  ap- 
pear more  natural  and  more  likely.  Nevertheless,  he  claims 
to  be  a  perfectly  honest  man,  and  declares  that  he  is  no 
more  respionsible  for  the  swindles  that  are  perpetrated  by 
means  of  his  worthless  shares  than  a  gunsmith  for  a  mur- 
der committed  with  a  gun  that  he  has  sold. 

"  He  will  surely  be  able  to  tell  us  all  about  the  state  of  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank,"  M.  de  Tregars  kept  repeating  to 
Maxence. 

Four  o'clock  struck  as  the  cab  stopped  at  the  Rue  Jo- 
quelet. The  Bourse  had  just  closed  ;  and  a  few  groups 
were  still  standing  about  the  Place  or  leaning  against  the 
railings. 

"  I  hope  we  shall  find  this  Lattermann  at  home  "  said 
Maxence. 

They  went  up-stairs,  for  it  is  on  the  second  floor  that 
this  worthy  operator  has  his  offices  ;  and  inquired  for  him. 


OTHER  FEOFLE'S  MONEY. 


287 


"  M.  Lattermann  is  engaged  with  a  customer,"  answered  a 
clerk.    "  Please  to  take  a  seat  and  wait." 

M.  Lattermann's  office  v;as  like  all  other  dens  of  the 
same  kind.  A  very  narrow  space  was  reserved  to  the 
public  ;  and  all  around,  behind  a  heavy  wire  screen  the 
clerks  could  be  seen  busy  adding  up  figures,  or  handling 
coupons.  On  the  right,  over  a  small  wicket,  appeared  the 
word  "  Cashier."  A  door  on  the  left  led  to  the  private 
office.  M.  de  Tregars  and  Maxence  sat  down  patiently 
on  a  hard  leather  seat,  once  red  ;  and  they  listened  and 
looked  on.  There  was  considerable  animation  about  the 
place.  Every  few  minutes  well-dressed  young  men  came 
in  with  a  hurried  and  important  look,  and  taking  from 
their  pocket  a  memorandum-book,  they  would  speak  a  few 
sentences  of  that  peculiar  dialect,  bristling  with  figures, 
which  is  the  language  of  the  Bourse. 

"  Will  M.  Lattermann  be  engaged  much  longer  ?  "  in- 
quired M.  de  Tregars  at  the  end  of  fifteen  or  twenty  min- 
utes. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  a  clerk. 

At  that  very  moment  the  little  door  on  the  left  opened, 
and  the  customer  who  had  detained  M.  Lattermann  so  long 
came  out.  This  customer  was  no  other  than  M.  Costeclar. 
Noticing  M.  de  Tragers  and  Maxence,  who  had  risen  at 
the  noise  of  the  door  opening,  he  appeared  most  disagree- 
ably surprised.  He  even  turned  slightly  pale  and  took  a 
step  backwards,  as  if  intending  to  return  precipitately  into 
the  room  that  he  was  leaving ;  for  M.  Lattermann's  office, 
like  that  of  all  other  large  operators  had  several  doors 
without  counting  the  one  that  leads  to  the  police-court. 
But  M.  de  Tregars  gave  him  no  time  to  effect  this  retreat. 
Stepping  suddenly  forward,  "  Well  "  he  asked  him  in 
a  tone  that  was  almost  threatening. 

The  brilliant  financier  had  condescended  to  take  off  his 
hat  usually  riveted  upon  his  head,  and  with  the  smile  of  a 
knave  caught  in  the  act,  he  said  :  I  did  not  expect  to 
meet  you  here,  marquis." 

At  the  title  of    marquis,"  everybody  looked  up. 

"  I  believe  you,  indeed,"  said  M.  de  Tregars.     "  But 
what  I  want  to  know  is,  how  is  the  matter  progressing  ?  " 
The  plot  is  thickening.    Justice  is  acting." 
Really?"  ^ 

"  It  is  a  fact.*   Jules  Jottras,  of  the  firm  of  Jottras  and 


788 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


Brother  was  arrested  this  morning  just  as  he  arrived  at 
the  Bourse/' 
"  Why  ? " 

"  Because,  it  seems,  he  was  an  accomplice  of  Favoral ; 
and  it  was  he  who  sold  the  bonds  stolen  from  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank." 

Maxence  had  started  at  the  mention  of  his  father's 
name  ;  but  with  a  significant  glance,  M.  de  Tregars  bid 
him  remain  silent,  and  in  a  sarcastic  tone,  "  What  a  famous 
capture  !  "  he  murmured.  "  And  which  proves  the  clear- 
sightedness of  justice." 

"  But  this  is  not  all,"  resumed  M.  Costeclar.  "tDaint- 
Pavin,  the  editor  of  *  The  Financial  Pilot,'  you  know,  is 
thought  to  be  seriously  compromised.  There  was  a  rumor 
at  the  close  of  the  Bourse,  that  a  warrant  either  had  been, 
or  was  about  to  be  issued  against  him." 

"  And  the  Baron  de  Thaller  t  " 

The  employees  of  the  office  could  not  help  being  sur* 
prised  at  M.  Costeclar's  extraordinary  amount  of  pa- 
tience. 

"  The  baron,"  he  replied,  "  made  his  appearance  at  the 
Bourse  this  afternoon  and  was  the  object  of  a  veritable 
ovation." 

"  That  is  admirable  !    And  what  did  he  say  ?  " 
"  That  the  damage  was  already  repaired." 
"  Then  the  shares  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  have  gone 
up  again." 

"  Unfortunately,  no.  They  did  not  go  above  one  hun- 
dred and  ten  francs." 

"  Are  you  not  astonished  at  that  ?  " 

"  Not  much,  because  you  see,  I  am  a  business  man  ; 
and  I  know  pretty  well  how  things  work.  When  they  left 
M.  de  Thaller  this  morning,  the  shareholders  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank  had  a  meeting  ;  and  they  pledged  themselves, 
upon  honour,  not  to  sell,  so  as  not  to  break  the  market.  As 
soon  as  they  had  separated,  each  one  said  to  himself, 
'  Since  the  others  are  going  to  keep  their  shares,  like  fools, 
I  may  as  well  sell  mine.'  Now,  as  there  were  three  or 
four  hundred  of  them  who  argued  in  the  same  way,  the 
market  was  flooded  with  shares." 

Looking  the  brilliant  financier  straight  in  the  eyes^ 
"  And  yourself  1 "  interrupted  M.  de  Tregars. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


I !  "  Stammered  M.  Costeclar  so  visibly  agitated,  that 
the  clerks  could  not  help  laughing. 

Yes.  I  wish  to  know  if  you  have  been  more  faithful 
to  your  word  than  the  shareholders  of  whom  you  are 
speaking,  and  whether  you  have  done  as  we  had  agreed.'' 
"  Certainly  ;  and,  if  you  find  me  here — " 
But  M.  de  Tregas,  placing  his  hand  on  the  other's 
shoulder,  stopped  his  further  protestations.  "  I  think  I 
know  what  brought  you  here,"  he  exclaimed  ;  "  and  in  a 
few  moments  I  shall  have  ascertained." 

I  swear  to  you." 

Don't  swear.  If  I  am  mistaken,  so  much  the  better 
for  you.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  I'll  prove  to  you  that  it  is 
dangerous  to  try  any  sharp  game  on  me,  though  I  am  not 
a  busmess  man." 

Meantime,  M.  Lattermann,  seeing  no  customer  come  to 
take  the  place  of  the  one  who  had  left,  became  impatient 
at  last^  and  appeared  upon  the  threshold  of  his  private 
office.  He  was  a  middle-aged  man,  small,  thickset,  and 
vulgar.  At  the  first  glance,  nothing  of  him  could  be  seen 
but  his  abdomen,  a  large  and  ponderous  abdomen,  seat  of 
his  thoughts,  and  tabernacle  of  his  aspirations,  over  which 
dangled  a  massive  gold  chain,  loaded  with  trinkets. 
Above  an  apoplectic  neck,  red  as  that  of  a  turkey-cock, 
rose  his  little  head,  covered  with  coarse,  red  hair,  cut  very 
short.  He  wore  a  heavy  beard,  trimmed  in  the  form  of  a 
fan.  His  large,  full-moon  face  was  divided  in  two  by  a 
nose  as  flat  as  a  Kalmuck's  and  illuminated  by  two  small 
eyes,  in  which  could  be  read  the  most  thorough  duplicity. 

"  Why !  you  know  each  other  !  "  he  said,  seeing  M.  de 
Tregars  and  M.  Costeclar  engaged  in  conversation. 

M.  de  Tregars  advanced  a  step.  "  We  are  even — inti- 
mate friends,"  he  replied.  "  And  it  is  very  lucky  that  we 
have  met.  I  am  brought  here  by  the  same  matter  as  our 
dear  Costeclar,  and  I  was  just  explaining  to  him  that  he 
has  been  too  hasty,  and  that  it  would  be  better  to  wait 
three  or  four  days  longer." 

"  That's  just  what  I  told  him,"  echoed  the  worthy  finan- 
cier. 

Maxence  understood  only  one  thing,  that  M.  de  Tregars 
had  penetrated  M.  Costeclar's  designs  ;  and  he  could  not 
sufficiently  admire  his  presence  of  mind,  and  his  skill  in 
grasping  an  unexpected  opportunity. 

19 


290 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


"  Fortunately,  there  is  nothing  done  yet/'  continued  Mi 
Lattermann. 

And  it  is  yet  time  to  alter  what  has  been  agreed  on,'' 
said  M.  de  Tregars.  And,  addressing  himself  to  Coste- 
clar,  he  added  :  "  Come,  we  will  settle  everything  with  M. 
Lattermann." 

But  the  other,  who  remembered  the  scene  in  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles,  and  who  had  his  own  reasons  to  be  alarmed,  would 
sooner  have  jumped  out  of  the  window.    "  I  am  expected," 
he  stammered.    "  Arrange  matters  without  me." 
Then  you  give  me  carte-blanche 

Ah,  if  the  brilliant  financier  had  dared.  But  he  felt 
riveted  upon  him  such  threatening  eyes  that  he  dared  not 
even  make  a  gesture  of  denial.  "  Whatever  you  do  will  be 
satisfactory,"  he  said  in  the  tone  of  a  man  who  feels  him- 
self lost. 

And,  as  he  made  towards  the  door,  M.  de  Tregars 
stepped  into  M.  Lattermann's  private  office.  He  re- 
mained only  five  minutes ;  and  soon  rejoined  Maxence, 
whom  he  had  begged  to  wait  for  him.  "  I  think  that  we 
have  them,"  he  said  as  they  walked  off. 

Their  next  visit  was  to  M.  Saint-Pavin,  at  the  office  of 
"  The  Financial  Pilot."  Every  one  must  have  seen  at 
least  one  copy  of  that  paper,  with  its  ingenious  vignette, 
representing  a  bold  mariner  steering  a  boat,  filled  with 
timid  passengers,  towards  the  harbour  of  Millions,  over  a 
stormy  sea,  bristling  with  the  rocks  of  failure  and  the 
shoals  of  ruin.  The  offices  of  "  The  Pilot,"  are,  in  fact, 
less  newspaper  offices  than  a  sort  of  general  business 
agency.  As  at  M.  Lattermann's,  there  were  clerks  scrib- 
bling behind  wire  screens,  a  cashier,  and  an  immense 
black-board,  on  which  the  latest  quotations  of  the  Rente, 
and  other  French  and  foreign  securities,  were  written  in 
chalk.  As  "  The  Pilot  "  spends  some  hundred  thousand 
francs  a  year  in  advertising  in  order  to  obtain  subscribers  ; 
as,  on  the  other  hand,  it  only  costs  three  francs  a  year,  it 
is  clear  that  it  is  not  on  its  subscriptions  that  it  realises 
any  profits.  It  has  other  sources  of  income  :  its  broker- 
ages first ;  for  it  buys,  sells,  and  executes,  as  the  prospec- 
tus says,  all  orders  for  stocks,  bonds,  or  other  securities, 
to  the  best  advantage  of  the  client.  And  it  has  plenty  of 
business.  To  the  opulent  brokerages,  must  be  added 
advertising  and  puffing,  another  mine.    Six  times  out  of 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


291 


ten,  when  a  new  enterprise  is  set  on  foot,  the  organizers 
send  for  Saint-Pavin.  Honest  men,  or  knaves,  they  must 
all  pass  through  his  hands.  They  know  it,  and  are 
resigned  in  advance.  We  rely  upon  you,"  they  say  to 
him.  "  What  advantages  have  you  to  offer  ?  "  he  replies. 
Then  they  discuss  the  operation,  the  expected  profits  of 
the  new  company,  and  M.  Saint-Pavin's  demands.  For  a 
hundred  thousand  francs  he  promises  to  do  his  utmost ; 
for  fifty  thousand  he  will  be  enthusiastic  only.  Twenty 
thousand  francs  will  secure  a  moderate  praise  of  the  affair  j 
ten  thousand,  a  friendly  neutrality.  And,  if  the  said  com- 
pany refuses  any  advantages  to  "  The  Pilot," — "  Ah,  take 
care  !  "  says  Saint-Pavin.  And  in  his  very  next  number 
he  commences  his  campaign.  He  is  moderate  at  first,  and 
leaves  a  door  open  for  his  retreat.  He  expresses  doubts 
only.  He  does  not  know  much  about  it.  It  may  be  an 
excellent  affair  ;  it  may  be  quite  the  reverse  :  the  safest 
is  to  wait  and  see.  That's  the  first  summons.  If  it 
remains  without  result,  he  takes  up  his  pen  again,  and 
makes  his  doubts  more  pointed.  He  knows  how  to  steer 
clear  of  libel  suits,  how  to  handle  figures  so  as  to  demon- 
strate, according  to  the  requirements  of  the  case,  that  two 
and  two  make  three,  or  make  five.  It  is  seldom,  that,  be- 
fore the  third  article,  the  company  does  not  surrender  at 
discretion.  All  Paris  knows  him  ;  and  he  has  many  friends. 

When  M.  de  Tregars  and  Maxence  arrived,  they  found 
the  office  full  of  people  :  speculators,  brokers,  go-betweens, 
come  here  to  discuss  the  fluctuations  of  the  day  and  the 
probabilities  of  the  evening  market.  "  M.  Saint-Pavin  is 
engaged,"  one  of  the  clerks  told  them. 

Indeed,  his  coarse  voice  could  be  distinctly  heard 
behind  the  screen.  Soon  he  appeared,  showing  out  an 
old  gentleman,  who  seemed  utterly  confused  at  the  scene, 
and  to  whom  he  was  shouting  :  No,  sir,  no  !  *  The 
Financial  Pilot '  does  not  undertake  that  sort  of  business  ; 
and  I  consider  you  very  bold  to  come  and  propose  to  me 
such  a  twopenny  rascality."  But,  noticing  Maxence,  he 
said  :  "  M.  Favoral !  By  Jove  !  it  is  my  good  star  that 
has  brought  you  here.  Come  into  the  private  office,  my 
dear  sir,  come,  we'll  have  some  fun  now." 

Many  of  the  people  who  were  waiting  had  a  word  to  say 
to  M.  Saint-Pavin,  some  advice  to  ask  him,  an  order  to 
transmit,  or  some  news  to  communicate.    They  had  all 


292 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


Stepped  forward,  and  were  holding  out  their  hands  with 
friendly  smiles.  He  motioned  them  aside  widi  his  usual 
rudeness.  By  and  by.  I  am  busy  now  !  Leave  me 
alone.  ' 

And  pulling  Maxence  towards  the  office-door  which  he 
had  just  opened.  Come  in,  come  in  !  "  he  said,  in  a  tone 
of  extraordinary  impatience. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  was  entering  too  ;  and  as  he  did  not 
know  him,  he  asked  roughly  :    "  What  do  you  want,  you  ? " 

The  gentleman  is  my  best  friend,''  said  Maxence,  turn- 
ing  to  him  ;  "  and  I  have  no  secret  from  him.'' 

^'  Let  him  come  in,  then  ;  but  by  heaven  make  haste  1  " 

Once  very  sumptuous  the  private  office  of  the  editor  of 
"  The  Financial  Pilot  "  had  fallen  into  a  state  of  sordid 
dilapidation.  If  the  office-boy  had  received  orders  never 
to  use  a  broom  or  a  duster  there,  he  obeyed  them  strictly. 
Disorder  and  dirt  reigned  supreme.  Papers  and  manu- 
scripts lay  about  in  all  directions ;  and  on  the  broad  sofas 
the  mud  from  the  boots  of  all  those  who  had  lounged 
upon  them  had  been  drying  for  months.  On  the  mantelpiece 
in  the  midst  of  some  half-dozen  dirty  glasses,  stood  a 
bottle  of  Madeira  nearly  empty.  Finally,  before  the  fire- 
place, on  the  carpet,  and  on  the  edges  of  the  tables,  cigar 
and  cigarette  stumps  were  heaped  in  profusion. 

As  soon  as  he  had  bolted  the  door,  M.  Saint-Pavin  went 
straight  to  Maxence,  and  asked  roughly :  "  What  has 
become  of  your  father  1 " 

Maxence  started.  That  was  the  last  question  he 
expected  to  hear.    "  I  do  not  know,"  he  replied. 

The  editor  of  The  Financial  Pilot "  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  "  That  you  should  say  so  to  the  commissary 
of  police,  to  the  investigating  magistrate,  and  to  all 
Favoral's  enemies,  I  understand,  it  is  your  duty.  That 
they  should  believe  you,  I  understand  too  ;  for,  after  all, 
what  do  they  care  ?  But  to  me,  a  friend,  though  you  may 
not  think  so,  and  who  has  reasons  not  to  be  credulous — " 
I  swear  to  you  that  we  have  no  idea  where  he  has 
taken  refuge." 

Maxence  said  this  with  such  an  accent  of  sincerity,  that 
doubt  was  no  longer  possible.  M.  Saint-Pavin's  features 
expressed  the  utmost  surprise.  "  What !  '■  he  exclaimed, 
*^  your  father  has  gone  off  without  securing  the  means  of 
hearing  from  his  family  1 " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 


293 


"Yes." 

"  Without  saying  a  word  of  his  intentions  to  your  mother, 
or  your  sister,  or  yourself  ?  " 
"  Without  a  word." 

"  Without  leaving  any  money,  perhaps  ? 

"  We  found  only  an  insignificant  sum  after  he  left." 

The  editor  of  "  The  Financial  Pilot  "  made  a  gesture  of 
ironical  admiration.  Well,  the  thing  is  complete,"  he 
said  ;  "  and  Vincent  is  a  smarter  fellow  than  I  thought ;  or 
else  he  must  have  cared  more  for  those  infernal  women  of 
his  than  any  one  supposed," 

M.  de  Tregars,  who  had  hitherto  remained  silent,  now 
stepped  forward.    "  What  women  1  "  he  asked. 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  "  repUed  the  editor  roughly.  "  How 
could  any  one  ever  find  out  anything  about  a  man  who 
was  more  hermetically  shut  up  in  his  coat  than  a  Jesuit  in 
his  cassock  ?  " 

"  M.  Costeclar — " 

"  He's  another  nice  chicken  !  Still  he  may  possibly 
have  discovered  something  of  Vincent's  life  ;  for  he  led 
him  a  pretty  dance.  Wasn't  he  on  the  point  of  marrying 
Mademoiselle  Favoral  once  ?  " 

"  Yes,  in  spite  of  herself  even." 

"  Then  you  are  right ;  he  had  discovered  something. 
But  if  you  rely  on  him  to  tell  you  anything  whatever,  you 
are  reckoning  without  your  host." 

"  Who  knows  ? "  murmured  M.  de  Tregars. 

But  M.  Saint-Pavin  heard  him  not.  Prey  to  a  violent 
agitation,  he  was  pacing  up  and  down  the  room.  "  Ah, 
those  men  of  cold  appearance,"  he  growled,  "  those  dis- 
creet-looking fellows,  those  close-shaving  calculators,  those 
moralists  !  What  fools  they  do  make  of  themselves  when 
once  started  !  Who  can  imagine  to  what  insane  extremi- 
ties this  one  may  have  been  driven  under  the  spur  of  some 
mad  passion  !  "  And  violently  stamping  his  foot  upon  the 
carpet,  from  which  arose  clouds  of  dust,  "  I  must  find  him 
however,"  he  swore,  "  and,  by  thunder !  wherever  he  may 
be  hid  I  will  find  him." 

M.  de  Tregars  was  watching  M.  Saint-Pavin  with  a  scru- 
tinizing eye.  "  You  have  a  great  interest  in  finding  him, 
then  ?  "  he  said. 

"  I  have  the  interest,"  replied  the  other,  "  of  a  man  who 
thought  himself  shrewd,  and  who  has  been  taken  in  like  a 


294 


OTHER  FEOPLKS  MONEY, 


child  ;  of  a  man  to  whom  wonders  had  been  promised,  and 
who  finds  his  situation  imperilled  ;  of  a  man  who  is  tired 
of  working  for  a  band  of  brigands  who  heap  up  millions 
upon  millions,  and  to  whom,  for  all  reward,  they  offer  the 
police-court  and  the  prospect  of  a  retreat  in  the  prison  of 
Poissy  for  his  old  age  ;  in  a  word,  the  interest  of  a  man 
who  longs  for  and  will  have  revenge,  by  ail  that's  holy ! '' 
On  whom  ?  " 

"  On  the  Baron  de  Thaller,  sir  !  How  in  the  world  has 
he  been  able  to  compel  Favoral  to  assume  the  responsibil- 
ity of  all  and  to  disappear  ?  What  enormous  sum  has  he 
given  to  him  ?  '' 

"  Sir,''  interrupted  Maxence,  my  father  w^ent  off  with- 
out a  sou." 

M.  Saint-Pavin  burst  out  laughing.  "  And  the  twelve 
millions  ?  "  he  asked.  "  What  had  become  of  them  ?  Do 
you  suppose  they  have  been  distributed  in  charity  ? " 
And  without  waiting  for  any  further  objections  he  went 
on :  "  But  it  is  not  with  money  alone  that  a  man  can  be  in- 
duced to  disgrace  himself,  to  confess  himself  a  thief  and  a 
forger,  to  brave  the  galleys,  to  give  up  everything,  country, 
family,  friends  1  Evidently  the  Baron  de  Thaller's  must 
have  had  other  means  of  action,  some  hold  on  Favoral — " 

M.  de  Tregars  interrupted  him.    "  Y ou  speak,"  he  said, 

as  if  you  were  absolutely  certain  of  M.  de  Thaller's  com- 
plicity." 

"  Of  course." 

"  Why  don't  you  inform  on  him,  then  ?  " 

The  editor  of  "  The  Financial  Pilot "  started  back.' 
"  What !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  mix  the  law  up  with  my  own 
business  !  You  can't  mean  it !  Besides,  what  good  would 
it  do  me  ?  I  have  no  proofs  of  my  allegations.  Do  you 
suppose  that  De  Thaller  has  not  taken  his  precautions, 
and  tied  my  hands  ?  No,  no  !  without  Favoral  there  is 
nothing  to  be  done." 

"  Do  you  suppose,  then,  that  you  could  induce  him  to 
surrender  himself  ? " 

"  No,  but  to  furnish  me  the  proofs  I  need  to  send  De 
Thaller  where  they  have  already  sent  that  poor  Jottras." 
And  becoming  more  and  more  excited,  "  But  it  is  not  in  a 
month  that  I  should  want  those  proofs,"  he  went  on,  "  nor 
even  in  a  week,  but  now,  at  this  very  moment.  Before  the 
end  of  the  week  De  Thaller  will  have  wound  up  the  oper- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


295 


ation,  realized,  heaven  only  knows  how  many  millions,  and 
put  everything  in  such  nice  order,  that  justice,  who  in 
financial  matters  is  not  of  the  first  capacity,  will  discover 
nothing  wrong.  If  De  Thaller  gets  as  far  as  that,  he  will 
be  safe,  he  will  be  beyond  reach,  and  will  be  dubbed  a  first- 
class  financier.  Then  to  what  may  he  not  aspire  !  Al" 
ready  he  talks  of  having  himself  elected  deputy ;  and  he 
says  everywhere  that  he  has  found  a  husband  for  his  daugh- 
ter, a  nobleman  who  bears  one  of  the  oldest  names  in 
France,  the  Marquis  de  Tregars.'' 

"  Why,  this  is  the  Marquis  de  Tregars ! exclaimed 
Maxence,  pointing  to  Marius. 

For  the  first  time  M.  Saint-Pavin  took  the  trouble  to  ex- 
amine his  other  visitor  ;  and  he,  who  knew  life  too  well  not 
to  be  a  judge  of  men,  he  seemed  surprised.  "  Please  ex- 
cuse me,  sir,"  he  said  with  a  politness  very  different  from 
his  usual  manner,  "  and  permit  me  to  ask  you  if  you  know 
the  reasons  why  M.  de  Thaller  is  so  prodigiously  anxious 
to  have  you  for  a  son-in-law." 

"I  think,"  replied  M.  de  Tregars  coldly,  "that  M.  de 
Thaller  would  not  be  sorry  to  deprive  me  of  the  right  to 
seek  the  causes  of  my  father's  ruin." 

But  he  was  interrupted  by  a  great  noise  of  voices  in  the 
adjoining  room  ;  and  directly  after  there  was  a  loud  knock 
at  the  door,  and  some  one  called  out :  "  In  the  name  of 
the  law  !  " 

The  editor  of  "  The  Financial  Pilot  "  had  become  whiter 
than  his  shirt.  "  That's  what  I  was  afraid  of,"  he  said. 
"  De  Thaller  has  got  ahead  of  me  ;  and  perhaps  I  am  lost." 
Meantime  he  did  not  lose  his  wits.  Quick  as  thought  he 
took  out  of  a  drawer  a  bundle  of  letters,  threw  them  into 
the  grate,  and  set  fire  to  them,  saying,  in  a  voice  rendered 
hoarse  by  emotion  and  anger  :  "  No  one  shall  enter  the 
room  until  these  papers  are  burnt."  But  it  required  a  long 
time  to  make  them  catch  fire.  M.  Saint-Pavin  had  knelt 
before  the  hearth,  and  was  stirring  them  up  and  scattering 
them  to  make  them  burn  faster. 

"Now,"  asked  M.  de  Tregars,  "do  you  hesitate  to  de- 
liver up  the  Baron  de  Thaller  to  justice " 

"  Now,"  replied  the  editor  with  flashing  eyes,  "  if  I  wish 
to  save  myself,  I  must  save  him  too.  Don't  you  under- 
stand that  he  holds  me  t  "    And,  seeing  that  the  last  sheets 


•3 


296 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


of  his  correspondence  were  consumed,  "  You  may  open/' 
he  said  to  Maxence. 

Maxence  obeyed,  and  a  commissary  of  police,  wearing 
his  scarf  of  office,  rushed  into  the  room ;  whilst  his  men, 
not  without  difficulty,  kept  back  the  crowd  in  the  outer  of- 
fice. The  commissary,  who  was  an  old  hand  and  had  per- 
haps been  on  a  hundred  expeditions  of  this  kind,  had  taken 
in  the  scene  at  a  glance.  Noticing  in  the  fireplace  the 
burnt  paper  upon  which  still  fluttered  an  expiring  flame, 
he  said :  "  That's  the  reason,  then,  why  you  were  so  long 
opening  the  door." 

A  sarcastic  smile  played  upon  the  editor's  lips :  "  Pri- 
vate matters,"  he  explained,  "  women's  letters." 

"  This  will  be  moral  evidence  against  you,  sir." 

"  I  prefer  it  to  material  evidence." 

Without  condescending  to  notice  the  impertinence,  the 
commissary  cast  a  suspicious  glance  on  Maxence  and  M. 
de  Tregars.  "  Who  are  these  gentlemen  who  were  closeted 
with  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Visitors.    This  gentleman  is  M.  Favoral." 

"  The  son  of  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual*  Credit  Bank  ?  " 

"  Exactly  ;  and  this  gentleman  is  the  Marquis  de  Tre- 
gars." 

"  They  should  have  opened  the  door  when  they  heard 
me  knock  in  the  name  of  the  law,"  grumbled  the  commis- 
sary. But  he  let  the  matter  drop.  Taking  a  paper  from 
his  pocket  he  opened  it,  and  handing  it  to  M.  Saint-Pavin, 

I  have  orders  to  arrest  you,"  he  said,  "  Here  is  the 
warrant." 

With  a  careless  gesture  the  other  pushed  it  back. 
"  What's  the  use  of  reading  1 "  he  said.  "  When  I 
heard  of  the  arrest  of  poor  Jottras  I  guessed  at  once 
what  was  in  store  for  me.  It  is  about  the  Mutual  Credit 
Bank  swindle,  I  imagine." 

"  Exactly." 

"  I  have  no  more  to  do  with  it  than  you  yourself,  sir ; 
and  I  shall  have  very  little  trouble  in  it.  But  that  is  not 
)^our  business,  and  you  are  going,  I  suppose,  to  put  the 
seals  on  my  papers  ?  " 

"  Except  on  those  that  you  have  burnt." 

M.  Saint-Pavin  burst  out  laughing.  He  had  recovered 
his  coolness  and  his  impudence,  and  seemed  as  much  at 
ease  as  if  what  was  taking  place  was  the  most  natural 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


297 


thing  in  the  world.  "  Shall  I  be  allowed  to  speak  to  m} 
clerks,"  he  asked,  "  and  to  give  them  my  instructions  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  commissary,    but  in  my  presence." 

The  clerks,  being  called,  appeared,  consternation  de- 
picted  upon  their  countenances,  but  joy  sparkling  in  their 
eyes.  In  reality  they  were  delighted  at  the  misfortune 
which  had  befallen  their  employer. 

"  You  see  what  happens  to  me,  my  lads,"  he  said. 
"  But  don't  be  uneasy.  In  less  than  forty-eight  hours  the 
error  of  which  I  am  the  victim  will  be  recognized,  or  I 
shall  be  liberated  on  bail.  At  any  rate,  I  can  rely  upon 
you,  can't  I  ?  "  They  all  swore  that  they  would  be  more 
attentive  and  more  zealous  than  ever.  And  then  address- 
ing himself  to  his  cashier,  who  was  his  confidential  and 
right-hand  man,  he  added:  "As  to  you,  Besnard,  you 
will  run  to  M.  de  Thaller's  and  inform  him  of  what's 
going  on.  Let  him  have  funds  ready  ;  for  all  our  depos- 
itors will  want  to  draw  out  their  money  at  once.  You 
will  then  call  at  the  printing-office  :  have  my  article  on 
the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  broken  up,  and  insert  in  its 
place  some  financial  news  cut  from  the  other  papers. 
Above  all,  don't  mention  my  arrest,  unless  M.  de  Thaller 
should  insist  upon  it.  Go  at  once,  and  let  the  paper 
appear  as  usual,  that's  the  main  thing." 

He  had,  whilst  speaking,  lighted  a  cigar.  The  honest 
man,  victim  of  human  iniquity,  could  not  have  had  a  firmer 
and  more  tranquil  countenance.  "Justice  does  not 
know,"  he  said  to  the  commissary,  who  was  fumbling  in 
all  the  drawers  of  the  writing-table,  "  what  irreparable 
darnage  she  may  cause  by  arresting  so  hastily  a  man  like 
me,  who  has  charge  of  immense  interests.  It  is  the 
fortune  of  ten  or  twelve  thousand  small  capitalists,  that 
is  put  in  jeopardy." 

Already  the  witnesses  of  the  arrest  had  retired,  one  by 
one,  to  go  and  scatter  the  news  along  the  Boulevard,  and 
also  to  see  what  could  be  made  out  of  it ;  for,  at  the 
Bourse,  news  is  money.  M.  de  Tregars  and  Maxence 
left  also.  As  they  passed  the  door  M.  Saint-Pavin  said 
to  them  :  "  Don't  you  say  anything  about  what  I  told 
you." 

M.  de  Tregars  made  no  answer.  He  had  the  contracted 
features  and  tightly-drawn  lips  of  a  man  who  is  consider- 
ing a  grave  determination,  which,  once  taken,  will  be 


298 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


irrevocable.  Once  in  the  street,  and  when  Maxence 
had  opened  the  cab  door,  he  said  to  him :  "  We  are  going 
to  separate  here.  I  know  enough  now  to  venture  to  call 
at  M.  de  Thaller's.  There  only  shall  I  be  able  to  see 
how  to  strike  the  decisive  blow.  Return  to  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles  and  relieve  your  mother's  and  sister's  anxiety. 
You  shall  see  me  during  the  evening,  I  promise  you." 
And  without  waiting  for  an  answer  he  jumped  into  the 
cab,  which  started  off. 

But  it  was  not  to  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  that  Maxence 
went.  He  was  anxious  first  to  see  Mademoiselle  Lu- 
cienne,  to  tell  her  the  events  of  that  day,  the  busiest  of 
his  existence ;  to  tell  her  his  discoveries,  his  surprises, 
his  anxieties,  and  his  hopes.  To  his  astonishment  he 
failed  to  find  her  at  the  Hotel  des  Folies.  She  had  gone 
out  for  a  drive  at  three  o'clock,  M.  Fortin  told  him,  and 
had  not  yet  returned ;  but  she  could  not  be  much  longer, 
as  it  was  already  getting  dark.  Maxence  went  out  again 
to  see  if  he  could  meet  her.  He  had  walked  a  little  way 
along  the  Boulevard,  when,  at  some  distance  oif,  on  the 
Place  du  Chateau  d'Eau,  he  thought  he  noticed  an  un- 
usual commotion.  Almost  immediately  he  heard  shouts 
of  terror.  Frightened  people  were  running  in  all  direc- 
tions ;  and  a  carriage,  going  at  full  gallop,  passed  him 
like  a  flash.  But  quick  as  it  passed  he  had  time  to  recog- 
nize Mademoiselle  Lucienne  clinging  desperately  to  the 
seat.  Wild  with  fear  he  started  after  it  as  fast  as  he  could 
run.  It  was  clear  that  the  driver  had  no  control  over  his 
horses.  A  policeman  who  tried  to  stop  them  was  knocked 
down.  Ten  steps  farther  the  hind-wheel  of  the  carriage, 
catching  the  wheel  of  a  heavy  wagon,  broke  to  splinters ; 
and  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  was  thrown  into  the  road, 
whilst  the  driver  was  preciptitated  to  the  pavement. 


V. 

The  Baron  de  Thaller  was  too  practical  a  man  to  live 
in  the  same  house,  or  even  in  the  same  district,  where  his 
offices  were  located.  To  dwell  in  the  midst  of  his 
business  ;  to  be  constantly  subjected  to  the  contact  of  his 
employees,  to  the  unkindly  comments  of  a  crowd  of  subor- 
dinates \   to  expose  himself   to   hourly  annoyances,  to 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


sickening  solicitations,  to  the  reclamations  and  eternal 
complaints  of  his  shareholders  and  his  clients,  would 
have  been  unbearable.  He  would  have  given  up  the 
business  first.  And  so,  the  very  day  he  established  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank  in  the  Rue  du  Quatre-Septembre,  he 
purchased  a  house  in  the  Rue  de  la  Pepiniere,  within  a 
few  steps  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Honore.  It  was  a  brand- 
new  house,  which  had  never  been  occupied,  and  which 
had  just  been  erected  by  a  contractor  who  was  almost 
celebrated,  towards  1866,  at  the  time  of  the  great  transfor- 
mations of  Paris,  when  masses  of  houses  were  levelled  to 
the  ground,  and  rose  again  so  rapidly,  that  one  might 
well  wonder  whether  the  masons,  instead  of  a  trowel,  did 
not  make  use  of  a  magician's  w^and.  This  contractor, 
named  Parcimieux,  had  come  from  the  Limousin  in  i860, 
with  his  mason's  tools  for  all  fortune,  and,  in  less  than  six 
years  had  accumulated,  at  the  lowest  estimate,  six  millions 
of  francs.  Only  he  was  a  modest  man,  and  took  as  much 
pains  to  conceal  his  fortune  and  offend  no  one,  as  most 
upstarts  do  to  display  their  wealth,  and  insult  the  public. 
Though  he  could  hardly  sign  his  name,  yet  he  knew  and 
practised  the  maxim  of  the  Greek  philosopher,  which  is, 
perhaps,  the  true  secret  of  happiness — hide  thy  hfe.  And 
there  were  no  expedients  to  which  he  did  not  resort  to 
hide  it.  At  the  time  of  his  greatest  prosperity,  for  in- 
stance, having  need  of  a  carriage,  he  applied  to  the 
manager  of  the  Cab  Company,  and  had  built  for  himself 
two  cabs,  outwardly  similar  in  every  respect  to  those  used 
by  the  company,  but  within,  most  luxuriously  upholstered, 
and  drawn  by  horses  of  common  appearance,  but  who 
could  go  their  twenty-five  miles  in  two  hours  any  day. 
And  these  he  hired  by  the  year.  Having  a  carriage,  the 
worthy  builder  determined  also  to  have  a  house,  his  own 
house,  built  by  himself.  But  this  required  infinitely 
greater  precautions  still.  "  For,  as  you  may  imagine," 
he  explained  to  his  friends,  "  a  man  does  not  make 
as  much  money  as  I  have  made  without  also  making 
many  bitter  and  irreconcilable  enemies.  I  have  against 
me  all  the  builders  who  have  not  succeeded,  all  the  sub- 
contractors I  employ,  and  who  say  that  I  speculate  on 
their  poverty,  and  the  thousands  of  workmen  who  w^ork 
for  me,  and  swear  that  I  grind  them  down  to  the  dust. 
Already  they  call  me  brigand,  slaver,  thief,  leech.  What 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


would  it  be  if  they  saw  me  living  in  a  beautiful  house  ol 
my  own  ?  They'd  swear  that  I  could  not  possibly  have 
got  so  rich  by  honest  means,  and  that  I  must  have  com- 
mitted some  crimes.  Besides,  to  build  me  a  handsome 
house  on  the  street  would  be,  in  the  case  of  a  riot,  to  set 
up  windows  for  the  stones  of  all  the  rascals  who  have 
been  in  my  employ."  Such  were  M.  Parcimieux'  ideas, 
when,  as  he  expressed  it,  he  resolved  to  build  for  himself. 
A  lot  was  for  sale  in  the  Rue  de  la  Pepiniere.  He 
bought  it,  and  at  the  same  time  purchased  the  adjoining 
house,  which  he  immediately  had  pulled  down.  This 
operation  placed  in  his  possession  a  vast  piece  of  ground, 
not  very  wide,  but  of  great  depth,  stretching  back,  as  it 
did,  as  far  as  the  Rue  de  La  Baume.  Work  was  at  once 
begun  according  to  a  plan  which  his  architect  and  himself 
had  spent  six  months  in  maturing.  On  the  line  of  the 
street  arose  a  house  of  the  most  modest  appearance,  two 
stories  in  height  only,  with  a  very  high  and  very  wide 
entrance  for  the  passage  of  vehicles.  Behind  this  house, 
between  a  spacious  court  and  a  vast  garden,  was  built  the 
residence  which  M.  Parcimieux  had  already  constructed 
in  his  dreams  ;  and  it  really  was  an  exceptional  building 
both  by  the  excellence  of  the  materials  used,  and  by  the 
infinite  care  which  presided  over  the  minutest  details. 
The  marbles  for  die  vestibule  and  the  stairs  were  brought 
from  Africa,  Italy,  and  Corsica.  He  sent  to  Rome  for 
workmen  for  the  mosaics.  The  joiners  and  locksmiths 
were  real  artists.  Repeating  to  every  one  that  he  was 
working  for  a  great  foreign  lord,  whose  orders  he  went  to 
take  every  morning,  he  was  free  to  indulge  his  most  ex- 
travagant fancies,  without  fearing  jests  or  unpleasant 
remarks.  Poor  old  man  !  The  day  when  the  last  work- 
man had  driven  in  the  last  nail,  an  attack  of  apoplexy 
carried  him  off,  without  giving  him  time  to  say  :  Oh  ! 
Two  days  after,  all  his  relatives  from  the  Limonsin 
hurried  into  Paris  like  a  pack  of  wolves.  Six  millions  to 
divide ;  what  a  godsend  !  Litigation  followed  as  a  matter 
of  course ;  and  the  house  was  offered  for  sale  under  a 
judgment.  M.  de  Thaller  bought  it  for  two  hundred  and 
seventy-five  thousand  francs,  about  one-third  what  it  had 
cost  to  build.  A  month  later  he  had  moved  into  it ;  and 
the  expenses  which  he  incurred  to  furnish  his  abode  in  a 
style  worthy  of  itself  was  the  talk  of  the  tov/n.   And  yet 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


he  was  not  fully  satisfied  with  his  purchase.  Unlike  M. 
Parcimieux,  he  had  no  wish  whatever  to  conceal  his 
wealth.  What !  he  owned  one  of  those  exquisite  little 
houses  which  excite  at  once  the  wonder  and  the  envy  of 
passers-by,  and  that  house  was  hid  behind  such  a  common- 
looking  building !  I  must  have  that  shanty  pulled 
down,"  he  said  from  time  to  time.  And  then  he  thought 
of  something  else  ;  and  the  shanty  was  still  standing  on 
that  evening,  when,  after  leaving  Maxence,  M.  de  Tregars 
presented  himself  at  M.  de  Thaller's. 

The  servants  had,  doubtless,  received  their  instructions, 
for,  as  soon  as  Marius  emerged  from  the  porch  of  the 
front  house,  the  concierge  advanced  from  his  lodge,  bend- 
ing low,  and  his  mouth  opened  to  his  ears  by  the  most 
obsequious  of  smiles.  Without  waiting  for  a  question,  he 
said  :  "  The  baron  has  not  yet  returned.  He  cannot, 
however,  be  much  longer  away ;  and  the  baroness  is  in. 
Please,  then,  give  yourself  the  trouble  to  walk  up  to  the 
house."  And,  standing  aside,  he  struck  upon  the  enor- 
mous gong  that  stood  near  his  lodge  a  single  sharp  blow, 
intended  to  wake  up  the  footmen  on  duty  in  the  vestibule, 
and  to  announce  a  visitor  of  note.  Slowly,  but  not  with- 
out quietly  observing  everything,  M.  de  Tregars  crossed 
the  court-yard,  covered  with  fine  sand — they  would  have 
powdered  it  with  golden  dust,  if  they  had  dared — and 
surrounded  on  all  sides  with  bronze  vases,  in  which 
beautiful  rhododendrons  were  blossoming.  It  was  nearly 
six  o'clock.  The  manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank 
dined  at  seven  ;  and  the  preparations  for  this  important 
event  were  everywhere  apparent.  Through  the  large  win- 
dows of  the  dining-room  the  stew^ard  could  be  seen  pre- 
siding over  the  setting  of  the  table.  The  butler  was 
coming  up  from  the  cellar,  loaded  with  bottles.  Finally, 
through  the  apertures  of  the  basement  arose  the  appetiz- 
ing perfumes  of  the  kitchen.  What  an  enormous  business 
it  required  to  support  such  a  style,  to  display  this  luxury, 
which  would  shame  one  of  those  German  princelings,  who 
exchanged  the  crown  of  their  ancestors  for  a  Prussian  livery 
gilded  with  French  gold  ! — other  people's  money. 

Meantime,  the  blow  struck  by  the  concierge  on  the  gong 
had  produced  the  desired  effect;  and  the  doors  of  the 
vestibule  seemed  to  open  of  their  own  accord  before  M. 
de  Tregars  as  he  ascended  the  steps.    Ihis  vestibule, 


302 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


with  the  splendour  of  which  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  had 
been  so  deeply  impressed,  would,  indeed,  have  been  worthy 
the  attention  of  an  artist,  had  it  been  allowed  to  retain  the 
simple  grandeur  and  the  severe  harmony  which  M.  Parci- 
mieux's  architect  had  imparted  to  it.  But  M.  de  Thaller, 
as  he  was  proud  of  boasting,  had  a  perfect  horror  of  sim- 
plicity ;  and,  wherever  he  discovered  a  vacant  space  as 
big  as  his  hand,  he  hung  a  picture,  a  bronze,  or  a  piece  of 
china,  anything  and  anyhow.  The  two  footmen  were  stand- 
ing when  M.  de  Tregars  entered.  Please  to  follow  me  !  " 
said  the  youngest  without  asking  any  questions.  And, 
opening  the  broad  glass  doors  at  the  other  end  of  the  hall, 
he  preceded  M.  de  Tregars,  up  a  marble  staircase,  the  ele- 
gant proportions  of  which  were  absolutely  ruined  by  a 
ridiculous  profusion  of  "  objects  of  art  "  of  all  sorts,  and  from 
all  sources.  This  staircase  led  to  a  vast  semi-circular  land- 
ing, upon  which,  between  columns  of  precious  marble, 
opened  three  wdde  doors.  The  footman  opened  the 
middle  one,  which  led  to  M.  de  Thaller's  picture-galler}^,  a 
celebrated  one  in  the  financial  world,  and  which  had  ac- 
quired for  him  the  reputation  of  an  enlightened  amateur. 
But  M.  de  Tregars  had  no  time  to  exanriine  this  gallery, 
which,  moreover,  he  already  knew  well  enough.  The 
footman  showed  him  into  the  small  drawing-room  of  the 
baroness,  a  gem  of  a  room,  hung  with  crimson  satin. 
"  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  take  a  seat,"  he  said.  I 
will  at  once  inform  my  mistress  of  your  visit." 

Left  alone,  M.  de  Tregars  sat  down.  Worn  out  by  the 
emotions  of  the  day,  and  by  an  extraordinary  contention 
of  mind,  he  felt  thankful  for  this  slight  respite,  which  per- 
mitted him,  at  the  moment  of  a  decisive  step,  to  collect  all 
his  energy  and  all  his  presence  of  mind.  And  in  a  few 
minutes  he  was  so  deeply  absorbed  in  his  thoughts,  that 
he  started  like  a  man  suddenly  aroused  from  sleep,  at  the 
sound  of  a  door  opening.  At  the  same  moment  he  heard 
a  slight  exclamation  of  surprise,  Ah  !  "  Instead  of  the 
Baroness  de  Thaller,  it  was  her  daughter.  Mademoiselle 
Cesarine,  who  appeared.  Stepping  forward  to  the  centre 
of  the  room,  and  acknowledging  by  a  familiar  nod  M.  de 
Tregars's  most  respectful  bow,  she  said  :  You  should 
warn  people  of  your  presence.  I  came  here  to  look  for  my 
mother  and  it  is  you  I  find.  Why,  you  have  scared  me  to 
death."    And  taking  hold  of  the  young  man's  hand  and 


O  THER  PEOPLE'S  MONE  K  303 

pressing  it  to  her  side,  "  Feel,"  she  added,  "  how  my  heart 
beats." 

Younger  than  Mademoiselle  Gilberte,  Mademoiselle 
Cesarine  de  Thaller  had  a  reputation  for  beauty  so 
thoroughly  established,  that  to  call  it  in  question  would 
have  seemed  a  crime  to  her  numerous  admirers.  And  she 
really  was  a  handsome  young  person.  Rather  tall  and 
well  made,  she  had  broad  hips,  a  waist  as  supple  as  a  steel 
rod,  and  a  magnificent  throat.  Her  neck  was  perhaps  a 
little  too  thick  and  too  short,  but  over  the  nape  was  scat- 
tered in  wild  ringlets  the  rebellious  hair  that  defied  a  comb. 
Her  hair  was  blonde,  or  rather  red,  but  of  that  red  almost 
as  dark  as  mahogany,  which  Titian  admired,  and  which  the 
handsome  Venetian  ladies  obtained  by  means  of  rather  re- 
pulsive practises,  and  by  exposing  themselves  to  the  noon- 
day sun  on  the  terraces  of  their  palaces.  Her  complexion 
had  the  gilded  hues  of  amber.  Her  lips,  red  as  blood, 
displayed  w^hen  parted  teeth  of  dazzling  whiteness.  In 
her  large  prominent  eyes,  of  a  milky  blue,  like  the  North- 
ern skies,  laughed  the  eternal  irony  of  those  that  no  longer 
have  faith  in  anything.  More  anxious  of  her  fame  as  a 
leader  of  fashion  than  of  good  taste,  she  wore  a  dress  of 
doubtful  shade,  puffed  up  by  means  of  an  extravagant 
pannier,  and  buttoned  obliquely  across  the  chest,  accord- 
ing to  that  ridiculous  and  ungraceful  style  invented  by  flat 
or  humped  women.  Throwing  herself  into  an  easy  chair, 
and  placing  cavalierly  her  right  foot  upon  another,  so  as 
to  display  her  leg,  which  was  admirable,  she  remarked  : 
"  Do  you  know  that  it's  perfectly  astounding  to  see  you 
here  ?  Just  imagine  for  a  moment  what  a  face  the  Baron 
*  Three  Francs  Sixty-eight '  will  make  when  he  sees  you !  " 
It  was  her  father  whom  she  called  thus,  since  the  day 
when  she  discovered  that  there  was  a  German  coin  called 
thaler,  which  represents  three  francs  and  sixty-eight  cen- 
times in  French  currency.  You  know,  I  suppose,"  she 
went  on,  "  that  papa  has  just  been  taken  in  ?  " 

M.  de  Tregars  expressed  his  regrets  in  vague  terms ; 
but  it  was  one  of  Mademoiselle  Cesarine's  habits  never  to 
listen  to  the  answers  which  were  made  to  her  questions. 
"  Favoral,"  she  continued,  papa's  cashier,  has  just  started 
on  an  international  change  of  air.    Did  you  know  him  ? " 

"  Very  httle." 
He  was  an  old  chap  with  a  face  like  an  undertaker 


304 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


And  the  Baron  ^  Three  Francs  Sixty-eight/  an  old  bird, 
was  fool  enough  to  be  taken  in  by  him  !  For  he  was 
taken  in.  He  had  a  face  like  a  man  whose  house  is  on 
fire  when  he  came  to  tell  us,  mamma  and  myself,  that  Fav- 
oral  had  gone  off  with  twelve  millions." 

"  And  he  has  really  carried  off  that  enormous  sum  ? " 

"  Not  entire,  of  course,  because  it  was  no  longer  ago 
than  yesterday  that  he  began  digging  into  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank's  pile.  For  years  past  this  venerable  old 
swell  had  been  leading  a  somewhat  variegated  existence 
in  company  with  rather  funny  ladies,  you  know.  And  as 
he  was  not  precisely  made  to  be  adored  at  par,  why,  it 
cost  papa's  shareholders  a  pretty  high  premium.  But, 
anyhow,  he  must  have  carried  off  a  handsome  nugget.'' 
And,  bouncing  to  the  piano,  she  sang  to  an  accompani- 
ment loud  enough  to  crack  the  window-panes,  one  of  the 
popular  choruses  of  the  day. 

Any  one  but  Marius  de  Tregras  would  have  been  doubt- 
less strangely  surprised  at  Mademoiselle  de  Thaller's  be- 
haviour. But  he  had  known  her  for  some  time  already ; 
he  was  familiar  with  her  past  life,  her  habits,  her  tastes, 
and  her  pretensions.  Until  the  age  of  fifteen,  Mademoi- 
selle Cesarine  had  remained  shut  up  in  one  of  those  pleas- 
ant Parisian  boarding-schools  where  young  ladies  are 
initiated  into  the  great  art  of  the  toilette,  and  from  which 
they  emerge  armed  with  the  gayest  theories,  knowing  how 
to  see  without  seeming  to  look,  and  to  lie  boldly  without 
blushing ;  in  a  word,  ripe  for  society.  The  directress  of 
the  boarding-school,  a  lady  who  had  moved  in  society  but 
who  had  met  with  reverses,  and  who  was  a  good  deal  more 
of  a  dressmaker  than  a  teacher  said  of  Mademoiselle  Ce- 
sarine, who  paid  her  three  thousand  five  hundred  francs  a 
year  :  "  She  gives  the  greatest  hopes  for  the  future ;  and 
I  shall  certainly  make  a  superior  woman  of  her."  But  the 
opportunity  was  not  allowed  her.  The  Baroness  de  Thal- 
ler discovered  one  morning  that  it  was  impossible  for  her 
to  live  without  her  daughter,  and  that  her  maternal  heart 
was  lacerated  by  a  separation  which  was  against  the  sacred 
laws  of  nature.  She  took  her  home,  therefore,  declaring 
that  nothing,  thenceforth,  not  even  marriage  should  sepa- 
rate them,  and  that  she  would  herself  finish  the  dear  child's 
education.  From  that  moment,  in  fact,  whoever  saw  the 
baroness  would  also  see  Mademoiselle  Cesarine,  following 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


in  her  wake.  A  girl  of  fifteen  discreet  and  well  trained  is 
a  convenient  chaperone ;  a  chaperone  who  enables  a  wo- 
man to  show  herself  boldly  where  she  might  not  have 
dared  to  venture  alone.  In  the  presence  of  a  mother  ac- 
companied by  her  daughter,  slander  hesitates  and  dares 
not  speak.  Under  the  pretext  that  Cesarine  was  still  but 
^  child,  and  of  no  consequence,  Madame  de  Thaller 
dragged  her  everywhere,  to  the  Bois  and  to  the  races,  visi- 
ting and  shopping,  to  balls  and  parties,  to  the  watering- 
places  and  the  seaside,  to  restaurants  and  to  all  the  first 
nights"  at  the  Palais-Royal,  the  Bouffes,  the  Varietes,  and 
^he  Delassements  theatres.  It  was,  therefore,  especially  at 
the  theatre  that  the  education  of  Mademoiselle  de  Thaller 
so  happily  commenced,  had  received  the  finishing  touch. 
At  sixteen  she  sang  with  surprising  intonations  and  aston- 
ishing gestures  Blanche  d'Antigny's  successful  rondos,  and 
Theresa's  most  indecent  verses.  Between  times  she 
studied  the  fashion  papers  and  formed  her  style  in  read- 
ing the  "  Vie  Parisienne,"  the  most  enigmatic  articles  of 
which  had  no  allusions  sufficiently  obscure  to  escape  her 
penetration.  She  learned  to  ride  on  horseback,  to  fence 
and  to  shoot,  and  distinguished  herself  at  the  pigeon-shoot- 
ing matches.  She  kept  a  betting-book,  played  Trente  et 
Quarante  at  Monaco ;  and  Baccarat  had  no  secrets  for  her. 
At  Trouville  she  astonished  the  natives  with  the  startling 
scantiness  of  her  bathing-costumes ;  and  when  she  found 
herself  the  centre  of  a  reasonable  circle  of  lookers-on,  she 
plunged  into  the  water  with  a  pluck  that  drew  upon  her 
<.he  applause  of  the  bathing-men.  She  could  smoke  a  cig- 
arette, neatly  toss  off  a  glass  of  champagne ;  and  once  her 
mother  was  obliged  to  bring  her  home  and  put  her  to  bed, 
because  she  had  insisted  upon  tasting  some  absinthe,  and 
her  conversation  had  become  somewhat  too  eccentric. 

Leading  such  a  life  it  was  difficult  that  public  opinion 
should  always  spare  Madame  and  Mademoiselle  de  Thal- 
ler. There  were  sceptics  who  insinuated  that  this  stead- 
fast friendship  between  mother  and  daughter  had  very 
much  the  appearance  of  the  association  of  two  women 
bound  together  by  the  complicity  of  a  common  secret.  A 
broker  told  how  one  evening,  or  one  night  rather,  for  it 
was  nearly  two  o'clock,  happening  to  pass  in  front  of  the 
Moulin-Rouge  he  had  seen  the  Baroness  and  Mademoi- 
selle Cesarine  coming  out  accompanied  by  a  gentleman, 

20 


3o6 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


to  him  unknown,  but  who  he  was  quite  sure  was  not  the 
Baron  de  Thaller.  A  certain  journey  which  mother  and 
daughter  had  undertaken  in  the  depth  of  the  winter,  and 
which  had  lasted  not  less  two  months,  had  been  generally 
attributed  to  an  imprudence,  the  consequences  of  which  it 
had  become  impossible  to  conceal.  They  had  been  to 
Italy  they  said  when  they  returned ;  but  no  one  had  seen 
them  there.  Yet  as  Madame  and  Mademoiselle  de  Thal- 
ler's mode  of  life  was,  after  all,  the  same  as  that  of  a  great 
many  women  who  passed  for  being  perfectly  proper ;  as 
there  was  no  positive  or  palpable  fact  brought  against 
them ;  as  no  name  was  mentioned ;  many  people  shrugged 
their  shoulders  and  replied  :  "  Pure  slanders.''  And  why 
not,  since  the  Baron  de  Thaller  the  most  interested  party 
was  perfectly  satisfied?  To  the  ill-advised  friends  who 
ventured  some  allusions  to  the  public  rumours,  he  replied 
according  to  his  humour :  My  daughter  can  play  the 
mischief  generally,  if  she  sees  fit.  As  I  shall  give  her  a 
dowry  of  a  millioa,  she  will  alw^ays  find  a  husband."  Or 
else  :  And  what  of  it  1  Do  not  American  young  ladies 
enjoy  unlimited  freedom  ?  Are  they  not  constantly  seen 
going  out  with  young  gentlemen,  or  walking  or  travelling 
alone  ?  Are  they  for  all  that  less  virtuous  than  our  girls 
who  are  kept  under  such  close  watch  ?  Do  they  make  less 
faithful  wives  or  less  excellent  mothers  ?  Hypocrisy  is 
not  virtue.''  To  a  certain  extent  the  manager  of  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank  was  right.  Already  Mademoiselle  de 
Thaller  had  had  to  decide  upon  several  very  suitable  offers 
of  marriage.  She  had  flatly  refused  them  all.  "  A  hus- 
band !  "  she  had  answ^ered  each  time.  "  Thank  you,  none 
for  me.  I  have  good  enough  teeth  to  eat  up  my  dowry 
m3^self.  Later  on  we'll  see,  when  I've  cut  my  wisdom 
teeth  and  am  tired  of  my  bachelor  life."  She  did  not 
seem  near  getting  tired  of  it  though  she  pretended  that 
she  had  no  more  illusions,  had  exhausted  every  sensation 
and  that  life  henceforth  had  no  surprise  in  reserve  for  her. 
Her  reception  of  M.  de  Tregars  was,  therefore,  one  of 
Mademoiselle  Cesarine's  least  eccentricities. 

"  I  see  with  pleasure,"  said  M.  de  Tregars  when  she  had 
finished  her  song,  that  the  embezzlement  of  which  your 
father  has  just  been  the  victim  does  not  in  any  way  affect 
your  good  humour." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders.       Would  you  have  me 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


cry,"  she  asked,  because  the  shareholders  of  the  Baron 
*  Three  Francs  Sixty-eight '  have  been  swindled  ?  Console 
yourself,  they  are  accustomed  to  it."  And  as  M.  de  Tre- 
gars  made  no  answer.  "  And  in  all  that,"  she  went  on, 
"  I  see  no  one  to  pity  except  the  wife  and  daughter  of  that 
old  swell  Favoral." 

"  They  are,  indeed,  much  to  be  pitied." 
They  say  that  the  mother  is  a  good  old  woman." 

"  She  is  an  excellent  person." 

"  And  the  daughter  ?  Costeclar  was  crazy  about  her  once. 
He  made  eyes  like  a  carp  in  love  as  he  told  us,  mamma 
and  myself.  '  She  is  an  angel,  ladies,  an  angel  !  And 
when  I  have  taken  her  in  hand  for  a  little  time  ! '  Now  tell 
me  is  she  really  as  nice  as  all  that  ?  " 

"  She  is  very  nice." 

"  Nicer  than  I  am  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  at  all  the  same  thing,  mademoiselle." 

Though  Mademoiselle  de  Thaller  had  stopped  singing, 
she  had  not  left  the  piano.  Half  turned  towards  M.  de 
Tregars  she  ran  her  fingers  listlessly  over  the  keys,  striking 
a  note  here  and  there,  as  if  to  punctuate  her  sentences. 
"  Ah,  how  very  pretty  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  and  above  all, 
how^  gallant !  Really,  if  you  venture  often  on  such  declara- 
tions, mothers  would  be  very  wrong  to  trust  you  alone  with 
their  daughters." 

"  You  did  not  understand  me  right  mademoiselle." 

"  Perfectly  right,  on  the  contrary.  I  asked  you  if  I  was 
nicer  than  Mademoiselle  Favoral ;  and  you  replied  to  me 
that  it  was  not  at  all  the  same  thing." 

"  It  is  because,  mademoiselle,  there  is  indeed  no  possible 
comparison  between  you,  who  are  a  wealthy  heiress  and 
whose  life  is  a  perpetual  enchantment,  and  a  poor  girl, 
very  humble  and  very  modest,  who  rides  in  omnibuses,  and 
who  makes  her  dresses  herself." 

A  contemptuous  smile  contracted  Mademoiselle  Cesa- 
rine^s  lips.  "  Why  not  ?  "  she  interrupted.  "  Men  have 
funny  tastes  ! — "  And  turning  round  suddenly,  she  began 
another  rondo  no  less  famous  than  the  first. 

M.  de  Tregars  was  observing  her  very  attentively.  He 
had  not  been  the  dupe  of  the  great  surprise  she  had  mani- 
fested when  she  found  him  in  the  little  drawing-room. 
"  She  knew  I  was  here,"  he  thought ;  "  and  it  is  her  mother 


3o8 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


who  has  sent  her  to  me.  But  why  ?  and  for  what  pur 
pose  ? " 

"  With  all  that,"  she  resumed,  "  I  see  the  dear  Madame 
Favoral  and  her  modest  daughter  in  a  bit  of  a  hole.  What 
a  mess,  marquis  !  " 

"  They  have  plenty  of  courage,  mademoiselle." 
Naturally.  But  what  is  better,  the  daughter  has  a 
splendid  voice,  at  least,  so  her  singing-master  told  Coste- 
clar.  Why  should  she  not  go  on  the  stage  ?  Actresses 
make  lots  of  money  you  know.  Papa  will  help  her  if  she 
wishes.  He  has  a  great  deal  of  influence  in  the  theatres, 
papa  has." 

"  Madame  and  Mademoiselle  Favoral  have  friends." 
"Ah,  yes  !  Costeclar." 
"  Others  besides." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  he  will  do 
to  begin  with.  He  is  gallant,  Costeclar,  extremely  gallant, 
and^  moreover,  generous  as  a  lord.  Why  should  he  not 
offer  to  that  youthful  and  timid  damsel  a  nice  little  posi- 
tion in  mahogany  and  rosewood  ?  That  way,  we  should 
have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  her  in  the  Bois.''  And  she 
began  singing  again. 

"  Ah,  this  big  red-headed  girl  is  terribly  provoking !  " 
thought  M.  de  Tregars.  But,  as  he  did  not  as  yet  under- 
stand very  clearly  what  she  wished  to  come  to,  he  kept  on 
his  guard,  and  remained  cold  as  marble. 

Already  she  had  again  turned  towards  him.  "  What  a 
face  you  are  making  !  "  she  saido  Are  you  jealous  of  the 
fiery  Costeclar,  by  chance  ?  " 

"  No,  mademoiselle,  no  !  " 
Then  why  don't  you  want  him  to  succeed  in  his  love  ? 
But  he  will,  you'll  see  !  P'ive  hundred  francs  on  Costeclar  ! 
Do  you  take  it  ?  No  ?  I  am  sorry.  It's  twenty-five  napo- 
leons lost  for  me.  I  know  very  well  that  Mademoiselle— 
What's  her  name  1  " 

"  Gilberte." 

"  Ah  !  a  nice  name  for  a  cashier's  daughter  !  I  am  aware 
that  she  once  sent  that  poor  Costeclar  and  his  offer  to  the 
devil.  But  she  had  resources  then  ;  whilst  now — It's  as 
stupid  as  it  can  be,  but  people  must  eat ! " 

There  are  still  women,  mademoiselle,  capable  of  starv- 
ing to  death."  M.  de  Tregars  now  felt  satisfied.  It  seemed 
evident  to  him  that  they  had  somehow  got  wind  of  his 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


309 


intentions  \  that  Mademoiselle  de  Thaller  had  been  sent  to 
feel  the  ground ;  and  that  she  only  attacked  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte  in  order  to  irritate  him,  and  cause  him,  in  a  mo- 
ment of  anger,  to  declare  himself. 

"  Bosh !  "  she  said,  "  Mademoiselle  Favoral  is  like  all 
the  others.  If  she  had  to  choose  between  the  amiable 
Costeclar  and  a  stove  full  of  charcoal,  it  is  not  the  char- 
coal she  would  select.'^ 

At  all  times,  Marius  de  Tregars  disliked  Mademoiselle 
Cesarine  to  a  supreme  degree  ;  and  at  this  moment,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  pressing  desire  he  had  to  see  the  Baron 
and  Baroness  de  Thaller,  he  would  have  withdrawn.  "  Be- 
lieve me,  mademoiselle,''  he  said  coldly.  Spare  a  poor 
girl  stricken  by  a  most  cruel  misfortune.  Worse  might 
happen  to  you.'' 

"  To  me  !    And  what  the  mischief  do  you  suppose  can 
happened  to  me  }  " 
Who  knows  1 " 

She  started  to  her  feet  so  violently  that  she  upset  the 
music-stool.  "  Whatever  it  may  be,"  she  exclaimed,  I 
say  in  advance,  I  am  glad !  "  And  as  M.  de  Tregars 
looked  at  her  with  some  surprise,  Yes,  I  am  glad  !  "  she 
repeated,  because  it  would  be  a  change  ;  and  I  am  sick 
of  the  life  I  lead.  Yes,  sick  to  be  eternally  and  invariably 
happy  of  that  same  dreary  happiness.  And  to  think  that 
there  are  idiots  who  believe  that  I  amuse  myself,  and  who 
envy  my  fate  1  To  think  that  when  I  ride  through  the 
streets  I  hear  girls  exclaim,  whilst  looking  at  me,  *  Isn't  she 
lucky  ? '  Little  fools  !  I'd  like  to  see  them  in  my  place. 
They  live,  they  do.  Their  pleasures  are  not  all  alike. 
They  have  anxieties  and  hopes,  ups  and  downs,  hours  of 
rain  and  hours  of  sunshine  ;  whilst  I — always  a  dead  calm ! 
the  barometer  always  at  *  Set  fair.'  What  a  bore  !  Do 
you  know  what  I  did  to-day  ?  Exactly  the  same  as  yester- 
day ;  and  to-morrow  I'll  do  the  same  as  to-day.  A  good 
dinner  is  a  good  thing ;  but  always  the  same  dinner,  with- 
out extras  or  additions — it  is  horrible  1  Too  many  truffles. 
Give  me  a  saveloy.  I  know  the  bill  of  fare  by  heart,  you 
see.  In  winter,  theatres  and  balls  ;  in  summer,  races,  and 
the  seaside ;  summer  and  winter  shopping,  rides  to  the 
Bois,  visits,  trying  on  dresses,  prepetual  adoration  by  my 
mother's  friends,  all  of  them  brilliant  and  gallant  fellows 
to  whom  the  mere  thought  of  my  dowry  gives  the  jaundice. 


310 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


Excuse  my  yawning  ;  I  am  thinking  of  their  conversation. 
And  such  will  be  my  existence  until  I  make  up  my  mind 
to  take  a  husband  !  For  I'll  have  to  come  to  it  too.  The 
Baron  '  Three  Francs  Sixty-eight '  will  present  to  me  some 
swell  or  other  attracted  by  my  money.  I  shall  answer, 
*  I'd  just  as  soon  have  him  as  anybody  else ;  '  and  he  will 
be  admitted  to  the  honour  of  paying  his  addresses  to  me. 
Every  morning  he  will  send  me  a  splendid  bouquet ;  every 
evening,  after  the  Bourse,  he'll  come  bedecked  in  evening 
dress  and  fresh  kid  gloves.  During  the  afternoon  he  and 
papa  will  pull  each  other's  hair  out  on  the  subject  dowry. 
At  last  the  happy  day  will  arrive.  Can't  you  see  it  from 
here  ?  Mass  with  music,  dinner,  ball.  The  Baron  '  Three 
Francs  Sixty-eight '  will  not  spare  me  a  single  ceremony. 
The  marriage  of  the  daughter  of  the  manager  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank  must  necessarily  be  an  advertisement.  The 
papers  will  publish  the  names  of  the  bridesmaids  and  of 
the  guests.  To  be  sure,  papa  will  have  a  face  a  yard  long, 
because  he  will  have  been  compelled  to  pay  the  dowry  the 
day  before.  Mamma  will  be  upset  at  the  idea  of  becom- 
ing a  grandmother.  The  bridegroom  will  be  in  a  wretched 
humour,  because  his  boots  will  be  too  tight ;  and  I'll  look  like 
a  goose,  because  I'll  be  dressed  in  white  ;  and  white  is  a 
stupid  colour,  which  is  not  at  all  becoming  to  me.  Charm- 
ing family  gathering  !  Two  weeks  later  my  husband  will 
be  sick  of  me,  and  I'll  be  disgusted  with  him.  At  the  end 
of  a  month  we'll  be  at  daggers  drawn.  He'll  go  back  to 
his  club  and  his  mistresses ;  and  I — I  shall  have  gained 
the  right  to  go  out  alone  ;  and  I'll  begin  again  going  to 
the  Bois,  to  balls,  to  races,  wherever  my  mother  goes.  I'll 
spend  an  enormous  amount  of  money  on  my  -dresses,  and 
I'll  makes  debts  which  papa  will  pay."  Though  anything 
might  be  expected  of  Mademoiselle  Cesarine,  still  M.  de 
Tregars  seemed  visibly  astonished.  And  she,  laughing  at 
his  surprise,  went  on:  "That's  the  invariable  programme, 
and  that's  why  I  say  I'm  glad  at  the  idea  of  a  change, 
whatever  it  may  be.  You  blame  me  for  not  pitying 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte.  How  could  I,  since  I  envy  her  ? 
She  is  happy  because  her  future  is  not  settled,  laid  out, 
fixed  in  advance.  She  is  poor ;  but  she  is  free.  She  is 
only  twenty  ;  she  is  pretty  ;  she  has  an  admirable  voice  ; 
she  can  go  on  the  stage  to-morrow,  and  become  in  less 
than  six  months  one  of  the  pet  actresses  of  Paris.  What 


O  THER  PEOPLE'S  MONE  V.  311 

a  life  then  !  Ah,  that  is  the  one  I  dream,  the  one  I  would 
have  selected,  had  I  been  mistress  of  my  destiny/' 

But  Mademoiselle  Cesarine  was  interrupted  by  the 
noise  of  the  opening  door,  and  the  Baroness  de  Thaller 
appeared.  As  she  was  going  to  the  opera  immediately 
after  dinner,  she  was  in  full  dress.  She  wore  a  costume, 
cut  audaciously  low  in  the  neck,  of  very  light  grey  satin, 
trimmed  with  bands  of  cherry-coloured  silk  edged  with 
lace.  In  her  hair,  worn  high  on  the  top  of  her  head,  was  a 
bunch  of  fuchsias,  the  long  trailing  shoots  of  which,  fast- 
ened together  by  a  large  diamond  brooch,  hung  over  her 
shoulders,  white  and  smooth  as  marble.  But  though  she 
forced  herself  to  smile,  her  countenance  was  not  that  of  fes- 
tive days ;  and  the  glance  which  she  cast  upon  her  daugh- 
ter and  Marius  de  Tregars  was  full  of  threats.  In  a  voice 
of  which  she  tried  in  vain  to  control  the  emotion,  she  said 
to  Marius  :  ^' How  very  kind  of  you,  marquis,  to  respond 
so  soon  to  my  invitation  of  this  morning  !  I  am  really  dis- 
tressed to  have  kept  you  w^aiting;  but  I  was  dressing. 
After  what  has  happened  to  M.  de  Thaller  it  is  absolutely 
indispenable  that  I  should  go  out  and  show  myself ;  other- 
wise our  enemies  will  be  telling  every  one  to-morrow  that 
I  am  in  Belgium,  preparing  lodgings  for  my  husband." 
And  then,  suddenly  changing  her  tone,  she  asked :  "  But 
what  was  that  madcap  Cesarine  telling  you  ? 

It  was  with  a  profound  surprise  that  M.  de  Tregars  dis- 
covered that  the  good  understanding  which  he  suspected 
between  the  mother  and  daughter  did  not  exist,  at  least  at 
that  moment.  Vailing  under  a  jesting  tone  the  strange 
conjectures  which  the  unexpected  discovery  aroused  within 
him,  he  replied  :  Mademoiselle  Casarine,  who  is  much  to 
be  pitied  was  telling  me  all  her  troubles." 

But  the  young  girl  interrupted  him.  "  Do  not  take  the 
trouble  to  tell  an  untruth,  marquis,"  she  said.  "Mamma 
knows  what  I  was  saying  as  well  as  you  ;  for  she  was  lis- 
tening at  the  door." 

"  Cesarine  !  "  exclained  Madame  de  Thaller. 

"  And  the  reason  she  came  in  so  suddenly  is  because 
she  thought  it  was  fully  time  to  cut  short  my  confi- 
-dences." 

The  face  of  the  baroness  became  crimson.  "  The  child 
is  going  mad  !  "  she  said. 

The  child  burst  out  laughing.    "  That's  my  way,"  she 


312 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


went  on.  "  You  should  not  have  sent  me  here  by  chance, 
and  against  my  wish.  You  made  me  do  it ;  don't  com- 
plain. You  were  sure  I  had  but  to  appear,  and  M.  de 
Tregars,  madly  in  love  with  me,  would  fall  at  my  feet.  I 
appeared,  and — you  saw  the  effect  through  the  keyhole, 
didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Such  behaviour  is  unheard  of,"  said  Madame  de  Thal- 
ler, as  with  contracted  features  and  flashing  eyes,  she 
twisted  her  lace  handkerchief  between  her  fingers  covered 
with  rings.       She  has  certainly  lost  her  senses." 

Dropping  her  mother  an  ironical  curtesy,  the  young 
lady  continued  :  *^  Thanks  for  the  compliment !  Unfortu- 
nately, I  never  was  more  completely  in  possession  of  all 
the  good  sense  I  can  boast  of  than  I  am  now,  dear  mam- 
ma. What  were  you  telling  me  a  moment  since  ?  '  Run, 
the  Marquis  de  Tregars  has  come  to  ask  your  hand :  it's 
all  setded.'  And  what  did  I  answer  ?  *  No  need  to  trou- 
ble myself.  If,  instead  of  one  million,  papa  were  to  give 
me  two,  four  millions,  indeed  all  the  milliards  paid  by 
France  to  Prussia,  M.  de  Tregars  would  not  have  me  for  a 
wife.'  "  And  looking  Marius  straight  in  the  face,  she 
asked  :  "  Am  I  not  right,  marquis  ?  And  isn't  it  a  fact 
that  you  wouldn't  have  me  at  my  price  ?  Come,  now, 
your  hand  upon  your  heart,  answer." 

M.  de  Tregars's  position  was  somewhat  embarrassing 
between  these  two  women,  whose  anger  was  equal,  though 
it  manifested  itself  in  a  different  way.  Evidently  it  was  a 
discussion  begun  before,  which  was  now  being  continued 
in  his  presence.  I  think,  mademoiselle,"  he  replied, 
that  you  have  been  slandering  yourself  gratuitously." 
Oh,  no  !  not  at  all,"  she  interrupted  ;  and  if  mamma 
had  not  happened  to  come  in,  3^ou  would  have  heard  much 
more.  But  you  have  not  answered  my  question."  And  as 
M.  de  Tregars  s^tid  nothing,  she  turned  towards  the  baroness  : 
Ah,  ah  !  you  see,"  she  said.  Who  was  crazy,  you  or  I  ? 
Ah!  every  one  here  imagines  that  money  is  everything, 
that  everything  is  for  sale,  and  that  everything  can  be 
bought.  Well,  no  !  There  are  still  some  men,  who,  for 
all  the  gold  in  the  world,  would  not  give  their  name 
to  Cesarme  de  Thaller.  It  is  strange  ;  but  it  is  so,  dear 
mamma,  and  we  must  make  the  best  of  it."  Then  turning 
towards  Marius,  and  emphasizing  each  syllable,  as  though 
afraid  that  the  allusion  might  escape  him,  she  added? 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  The  men  of  whom  I  speak  marry  girls  who  would  know 
how  to  starve  to  death." 

Knowing  her  daughter  well  enough  to  be  aware  that  she 
could  not  impose  silence  upon  her,  the  Baroness  de  Thaller 
dropped  into  an  arm-chair.  She  was  trying  hard  to  appear 
indifferent  to  what  her  daughter  was  saying  ;  but  at  every 
moment  a  threatening  gesture,  or  a  hoarse  exclamation, 
betrayed  the  storm  that  raged  within  her.  Go  on,  poor 
foolish  child  !  "  said  she,  "  go  on  !  " 

And  she  did  go  on.  "  Finally,  were  M.  de  Tregars 
willing  to  have  me,  I  would  refuse  him  because,  then — " 
A  fugitive  blush  appeared  upon  her  cheeks,  her  bold  eyes 
vacillated,  and  dropping  her  voice,  she  added  :  "  Because, 
then,  he  would  no  longer  be  what  he  is  ;  because  I  feel 
that  fatally  I  shall  despise  the  husband  whom  papa  will 
buy  me.  And  if  I  came  here  to  expose  myself  to  an 
affront  which  I  foresaw,  it  was  because  I  wanted  to  make 
sure  of  a  fact  of  which  a  word  of  Costeclar,  a  few  days 
ago,  had  given  me  an  idea  of  a  fact  which  you  do  not 
perhaps  suspect,  dear  mother,  despite  your  astonishing 
perspicacity.  I  wanted  to  find  out  M.  de  Tregars's  secret ; 
and  I  have  found  it  out." 

M.  de  Tregars  had  come  to  the  De  Thaller  mansion  with 
a  plan  well  settled  in  advance.  He  had  pondered  long 
before  deciding  what  he  would  do,  and  what  he  would  sa)^, 
and  how  he  would  begin  the  decisive  struggle.  What  had 
taken  place  showed  him  the  idleness  of  his  conjectures, 
and,  as  a  natural  consequence,  upset  his  plans.  To  aban- 
don himself  to  the  chances  of  the  hour,  and  to  make  the 
best  possible  use  of  them,  was  now  the  wisest  thing  to  do. 

Give  me  the  credit,  mademoiselle  "  he  exclaimed,  for 
sufficient  penetration  to  have  perfectly  well  discerned  your 
intentions.  There  was  no  need  of  artifice,  because  I  have 
nothing  to  conceal.  You  had  but  to  question  me,  I  would 
have  answered  you  frankly,  *  Yes,  it  is  true  I  love  Made- 
moiselle Gilberte,  and  before  a  month  has  passed  she  will 
be  Marchioness  de  Tregars.' " 

Madame  de  Thaller,  at  these  words,  started  to  her  feet, 
pushing  back  her  arm-chair,  so  violently  that  it  rolled  as 
far  as  the  wall.  What ! "  she  exclaimed,  "  you  will 
marry  Gilberte  Favoral — you  1 " 

"  Yes,  I!" 


3^4 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


"  The  daughter  of  a  defaulting  cashier,  of  a  dishonoured 
man  whom  justice  pursues,  and  the  galleys  await !  " 

Yes  1  "  And  in  a  voice  that  caused  a  shiver  to  run 
over  Madame  de  Thaller's  white  shoulders,  M.  de  Tregars 
added :  "  Whatever  may  have  been  Vincent  Favoral's 
crime  ;  whether  he  has  or  has  not  stolen  the  twelve  millions 
which  are  missing  from  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  ,  whether  he 
is  alone  guilty,  or  has  accomplices  ;  whether  he  be  a  knave 
or  a  fool,  an  impostor  or  a  dupe,  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  is 
not  responsible." 

"  You  know  the  Favora^  family,  then  ?  " 

"  Enough  to  make  their  cause  henceforth  my  own." 

The  baroness's  agitation  was  so  great,  that  she  did  not 
even  attempt  to  conceal  it.  A  nobody's  daughter  I  "  she 
said. 

"  I  love  her," 

"  Without  a  sou  !  " 
Why,  that's  the  very  reason  why  a  man  can  marry  her ! " 
exclaimed  Mademoiselle  Cesarine.    And  holding  out  her 
hand  to  M.  de  Tregars,  she  added  ;  "  What  you  are  about 
to  do  is  well,  very  well." 

There  was  a  wild  Ipok  in  the  baroness's  eyes.  "  Mad, 
unhappy  child  !  "  she  cried.  If  your  father  should  hear 
of  this ! " 

"  Who  would  report  our  conversation  to  him  ?  M.  de 
Tregars  ?  He  would  not  do  such  a  thing.  You  ?  You 
dare  not !  " 

Drawing  herself  up  to  her  fullest  height,  her  breast 
swelling  with  anger,  her  head  thrown  back,  her  eyes  flash- 
ing, Madame  de  Thaller  said,  extending  her  arm  towards 
the  door :  "  Cesarine,  leave  the  room,  I  command  you." 

But,  motionless  on  her  chair,  the  young  girl  cast  upon 
her  mother  a  look  of  defiance.  "  Come,  calm  yourself," 
she  observed  in  a  tone  of  crushing  irony,  "  or  you'll  spoil 
your  complexion  for  the  rest  of  the  evening.  Do  I  com- 
plain 1  do  I  get  excited  ?  And  yet  whose  fault  is  it  if  honour 
makes  it  a  duty  for  me  to  cry  ^  Beware  !  '  to  an  honest  man 
who  wishes  to  marry  me  ?  That  Gilberte  should  get  mar- 
ried, that  she  should  be  very  happy,  have  many  children, 
darn  her  husband's  socks,  and  cook  her  own  dinner,  that  is 
her  part  in  life.  Ours,  dear  mother,  that  which  you  have 
taught  me,  is  to  laugh  and  enjoy  ourselves,  always,  night 
and  day,  till  death." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


315 


The  entrance  of  a  footman  interrupted  her.  Handing  a 
card  to  Madame  de  Thaller,  he  said  ;  "  The  gentleman 
who  gave  it  to  me  is  in  the  drawing-room." 

The  baroness  turned  very  pale.  "  Oh  !  "  she  murmured, 
turning  the  card  between  her  fingers,  "  oh  ! — "  Then  she 
suddenly  left  the  room  exclaiming,  I  shall  be  back 
directly." 

An  embarrassing,  painful  silence  followed  the  Baroness 
de  Thaller's  precipitate  departure.  Mademoiselle  Cesarine 
had  approached  the  mantel-piece.  All  palpitating  and 
excited,  she  was  leaning  her  elbow  upon  it,  and  her  face 
was  hidden  in  her  hand.  Intimidated  for  perhaps  the 
first  time  in  her  life,  she  had  turned  away  her  great  blue 
eyes,  as  if  afraid  that  they  should  betray  a  shadow  of  her 
thoughts.  M.  de  Tregars  remained  in  his  place,  not  hav- 
ing one  whit  too  much  of  that  power  of  self-control,  which 
is  acquired  by  a  long  experience  of  the  world,  to  conceal 
his  impressions.  If  he  had  a  fault,  it  was  certainly  not 
self-conceit ;  but  Mademoiselle  de  Thaller  had  been  too 
explicit  and  too  clear  to  leave  him  a  doubt.  All  she  had 
said  could  be  summed  up  in  one  sentence  :  *^  My  parents 
were  in  hopes  that  I  would  become  your  wife  ;  I  had  judged 
you  well  enough  to  understand  their  error.  Precisely  be- 
cause I  love  you,  I  acknowledge  myself  unworthy  of  you, 
and  I  wish  you  to  know  that  if  you  had  asked  my  hand, 
the  hand  of  a  girl  who  has  a  dowry  of  a  million,  I  would 
have  ceased  to  esteem  you."  That  such  a  feeling  should 
have  budded  and  blossomed  in  Mademoiselle  Cesarine's 
mind,  withered  as  it  was  by  vanity,  and  cloyed  by  pleasure, 
was  almost  a  miracle.  It  was,  at  any  rate,  an  astonishing 
proof  of  love  which  she  gave ;  and  Marius  de  Tregars 
would  not  have  been  a  man  if  he  had  not  been  deeply 
moved  by  it. 

"  What  a  miserable  being  I  am  !  "  she  suddenly  ex- 
claimed. 

You  mean  unhappy,"  said  M.  de  Tregars  gently. 

What  can  you  think  of  my  sincerity  ?  You  must  doubt- 
less find  it  strange,  impudent,  grotesque."  He  lifted  his 
hand  in  protest ;  for  she  gave  him  no  time  to  put  in  a 
word.  "  And  yet,"  she  continued,  this  is  not  the  first 
time  that  I  am  assailed  by  sinister  ideas,  and  that  I  feel 
ashamed  of  myself.  I  was  convinced  once  that  this  mad 
existence  of  mine  is  the  only  enviable  one,  the  only  one. 


3i6 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


that  can  give  happiness.  And  now  I  discover  that  it  is 
not  the  right  path  which  I  have  taken,  or,  rather,  which  I 
have  been  made  to  take.  And  there  is  no  possibiUty  of 
retracing  my  steps. She  turned  pale,  and,  in  an  accent 
of  gloomy  despair,  she  resumed :  "  Everything  fails  me. 
It  seems  as  though  I  were  rolling  into  a  bottomless  abyss, 
without  a  branch  or  a  tuft  of  grass  to  cling  to.  Around 
me,  emptiness,  night,  chaos.  I  am  not  yet  twenty  ;  and  it 
seems  to  me  that  I  have  lived  thousands  of  years  and  ex- 
hausted every  sensation.  I  have  seen  everything,  learned 
everything,  experienced  everything,  and  I  am  tired  of 
everything,  nauseously  satiated.  You  see  me  looking  like 
a  brainless,  foolish  girl.  I  sing,  I  jest,  I  talk  slang.  My 
gaiety  surprises  everybody.  In  reality  I  am  literally  bored 
to  death.  What  I  feel  I  could  not  express,  there  are  no 
words  to  render  absolute  disgust.  Sometimes  I  say  to  my- 
self, '  It  is  stupid  to  be  so  sad.  What  do  you  need  ?  Are 
you  not  young,  handsome,  rich  ? '  But  I  must  need  some- 
thing, or  else  I  would  not  be  thus  agitated,  nervous,  anx- 
ious, unable  to  stay  in  one  place,  tormented  by  confused 
aspirations  and  by  desires  which  I  cannot  state.  W^hat 
can  I  do  ?  Seek  oblivion  in  pleasure  and  dissipation  ?  I 
try,  and  I  succeed  for  an  hour  or  so  ;  but  the  re-action 
comes  and  the  effect  vanishes,  like  froth  from  champagne. 
The  lassitude  returns  ;  and  whilst  outwardly  I  continue  to 
laugh,  I  shed  within  tears  of  blood  which  scald  my  heart. 
What  is  to  become  of  me,  without  a  memory  in  the  past,  or 
a  hope  in  the  future  upon  which  to  rest  my  thoughts  ?  " 
And  bursting  into  tears,  she  exclaimed  :  "  Oh  I  am 
wretchedly  unhappy !  I  wish  I  was  dead." 

M.  de  Tregars  rose,  feeling  more  deeply  moved  than  he 
would,  perhaps,  have  liked  to  acknowledge.  "  I  was  laugh- 
ing at  you  only  a  moment  since,"  he  said  in  a  grave  and 
vibrating  voice.  "  Pardon  me,  mademoiselle.  It  is  with 
the  utmost  sincerity,  and  from  the  innermost  depths  of  my 
soul  that  I  pity  you." 

She  was  looking  at  him  with  an  air  of  timid  doubt,  big 
tears  trembhng  between  her  long  eyelashes.  Truly?" 
she  asked. 

"  Upon  my  honour." 

"  And  you  will  not  go  away  with  too  bad  an  opinion  of 
me  ?  " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


"  I  shall  retain  the  firm  belief,  that  when  you  were  yet 
but  a  child,  you  were  misled  by  insane  theories." 

Gently  and  sadly  she  passed  her  hand  over  her  forehead. 
"  Yes,  that's  it,"  she  murmured.  "  How  could  I  resist  ex- 
amples coming  from  certain  persons  ?  How  could  I  help 
becoming  intoxicated  when  I  saw  myself,  as  it  were,  in  a 
cloud  of  incense,  when  I  heard  nothing  but  praise  and 
applause  ?  And  then  there  is  the  money,  which  depraves 
when  it  is  obtained  in  a  certain  way." 

She  ceased  speaking  ;  but  the  silence  was  soon  again 
broken  by  a  slight  noise,  which  came  from  the  adjoining 
room.  Mechanically  M.  de  Tregars  looked  around  him. 
The  little  drawing-room  in  which  he  found  himself  was 
divided  from  the  principal  drawdng-room  of  the  house  by  a 
high  and  broad  door  which  had  been  left  partly  open. 
Now  such  was  the  disposition  of  the  mirrors  in  the  two 
rooms,  that  M.  de  Tregars  could  see  reflected  in  the  mirror 
over  the  mantelpiece  of  the  little  drawing-room,  almost  the 
whole  of  the  interior  of  the  principal  one.  A  man  of  sus- 
picious  appearance,  and  dressed  in  very  shabby  clothes, 
was  standing  waiting  in  it.  And  the  more  M.  de  Tregars 
examined  him,  the  more  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  had 
already  seen  somewhere  that  uneasy  countenance,  that 
cunning  glance,  that  wicked  smile  flittmg  upon  flat,  thin 
lips.  But  suddenly  the  man  bowed  very  low,  and  Madame 
de  Thaller  almost  immediately  appeared  within  the  range 
of  the  looking-glass.  She  seemed  greatly  agitated  ;  and 
with  a  finger  upon  her  lips,  she  enjoined  the  man  to  be 
prudent,  and  to  speak  low.  It  was  therefore  in  a  w^hisper, 
and  such  a  low  whisper  that  not  even  a  vague  murmur 
reached  the  little  drawing-room,  that  the  man  uttered  a  few 
words.  They  were  such  that  the  baroness  started  back  as 
if  she  had  seen  a  precipice  yawning  at  her  feet ;  and  by 
this  action  it  was  easy  to  understand  that  she  must  have 
said  :  "  Is  it  possible  ?  "  With  the  voice  which  still  could 
not  be  heard,  but  with  a  gesture  which  could  be  seen,  the 
man  evidently  answered  :  It  is  so,  I  assure  you  !  "  And 
leaning  towards  Madame  de  Thaller,  who  seemed  in  no 
wise  shocked  to  feel  this  repulsive  personage's  lips  almost 
touching  her  ear,  he  continued  speaking  to  her.  The  sur- 
prise which  this  scene  caused  to  Mc  de  Tregars  was  great, 
but  it  did  not  prevent  him  wondering  what  could  be  the 
meaning  of  it.    How  came  this  suspicious-looking  man  to 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


have  obtained  access  without  difficulty  into  the  principal 
drawing-room  ?  Why  had  the  baroness,  on  receiving  his 
card,  turned  whiter  than  the  lace  on  her  dress  ?  What 
was  the  news  he  brought  which  made  such  a  deep  im- 
pression ?  What  was  he  saying  that  seemed  at  once  to 
terrify  and  to  delight  Madame  de  Thaller  ?  But  soon  she 
interrupted  the  man,  motioned  him  to  wait,  and  disappear- 
ed for  a  minute  ;  and  when  she  returned  she  held  in  her 
hand  a  bundle  of  bank-not^s,  which  she  counted  out  upon 
the  table.  She  counted  twenty-five,  which,  so  far  as  M.  de 
Tregars  could  judge,  were  hundred-franc-notes.  The  man 
took  them,  recounted  them,  slipped  them  into  his  pocket 
with  a  grin  of  satisfaction,  and  then  seemed  disposed  to 
retire.  The  baroness  detained  him.  however  ;  and  it  was 
she  now,  who  leaning  towards  him,  commenced  to  explain, 
or  rather  as  far  as  her  attitude  showed,  to  ask  something. 
It  must  have  been  a  serious  matter,  for  he  shook  his  head, 
and  moved  his  arms  as  if  he  said  :  The  deuce,  the 
deuce  !  "  The  strangest  suspicions  flashed  across  M.  de 
Tregars's  mind.  What  was  the  bargain  to  wh^'ch  the  mir- 
ror thus  made  him  an  accidental  witness  ?  For  it  was  a 
bargain,  there  could  be  no  mistake  about  that.  The  man 
having  undertaken  a  commission,  had  fulfilled  it,  and  had 
come  to  receive  the  price  agreed  upon.  And  now  another 
commission  was  proposed  to  him. 

But  M.  de  Tregars's  attention  was  suddenly  diverted  by 
Mademoiselle  Cesarine.  Shaking  off  the  torpor  which  for 
a  moment  had  overpowered  her,  she  resumed,  answering 
rather  the  objections  of  her  own  mind  than  addressing  her- 
self to  M.  de  Tregars  :  "  But  why  fret  and  worry  ?  Things 
are  just  as  they  are,  and  I  cannot  undo  them.  Ah  !  if  the 
mistakes  of  life  were  like  soiled  clothes,  which  are  allowed 
to  accumulate,  and  which  are  all  sent  out  at  once  to  the 
wash.  But  nothing  washes  the  past,  not  even  repentance, 
whatever  is  said.  There  are  some  ideas  which  should  be 
repelled.  A  prisoner  should  not  allow  himself  to  think  of 
freedom.  And  yet,"  she  added,  shrugging  her  shoulders, 
"  a  prisoner  has  always  the  hope  of  escaping ;  whereas  I 
have  none.  But  that's  enough  sentiment  for  one  day,  and 
instead  of  staying  here  boring  you  to  death,  I  ought  to  go 
and  dress  ;  for  I  am  going  to  the  opera  with  my  sweet 
mamma,  and  afterwards  to  a  ball.  You  ought  to  come.  I 
am  going  to  wear  a  stunning  dress.    The  ball  is  at  Madame 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


319 


de  Bois  d'Ardon's,  one  of  our  friends,  a  progressive  woman. 
She  has  a  smoking-room  for  ladies.  What  do  you  think  of 
that  ?  Come,  will  you  join  us  ?  We'll  drink  champagne 
and  we'll  laugh.  No  1  Take  care  of  yourself  then,  and 
give  my  compliments  to  your  family." 

But  at  the  moment  of  leaving  the  room,  her  heart  failed 
her.  "  This  is  doubtless  the  last  time  I  shall  ever  see  you 
M.  de  Tregars,"  she  said.  "  Farewell  !  You  know  now 
why  I,  who  have  a  dowry  of  a  million,  I  envy  Gilberte  Fa- 
voral.  Once  more  farewell.  And  whatever  happiness 
may  fall  to  your  lot  in  life,  remember  that  Cesarine  has 
wished  it  all  to  you."  And  she  went  out  at  the  very  mo- 
ment that  the  Baroness  de  Thaller  returned. 


VI. 

"  Cesarine  ! "  Madame  de  Thaller  called  in  a  voice 
which  sounded  at  once  like  a  prayer  and  a  threat. 

"  I  am  going  to  dress  myself,  mamma,"  she  answered. 

"  Come  back !  " 
So  that  you  can  scold  me  if  I  am  not  ready  when  you 
want  to  go  1    Thank  3^ou,  no." 

I  command  you  to  come  back,  Cesarine." 

No  answer.    She  was  already  far  away. 

"  What  an  extraordinary  girl !  "  said  Madame  de  Thaller 
taking  a  seat  near  M.  de  Tregars. 

Meantime,  Marius  was  watching  in  the  glass  what  was 
going  on  in  the  other  room.  The  suspicious-looking  man 
was  still  there,  and  alone.  A  servant  had  brought  him  pen, 
ink,  and  paper  ;  and  he  was  writing  rapidly.  "  How  is  it 
that  they  leave  him  there  alone  ?  "  wondered  Marius.  And 
he  endeavoured  to  discover  on  the  baroness's  features  an 
answer  to  the  confused  presentiments  which  agitated  his 
brain.  But  there  was  no  longer  any  trace  of  the  emotion 
which  she  had  manifested  when  taken  unawares.  Having 
had  time  for  reflection,  her  countenance  had  resumed  its 
ordinary  expression. 

"I  was  saying,"  repeated  Madame  de  Thaller,  some- 
what surprised  at  M.  de  Tregars's  silence,  "  that  Cesarine 
is  a  strange  girl." 

"  Strange,  indeed  !  "  he  answered,  still  absorbed  by  what 
was  taking  place  in  the  principal  drawing-room. 


320 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  And  such  is/'  said  the  baroness  with  a  sigh,  "  the  re- 
sult of  M.  de  Thaller's  weakness,  and  above  all  of  my 
own." 

"  Ah  !  " 

"  We  have  only  Cesarine  ,  and  it  is  natural  that  we  should 
spoil  her.  Her  fancy  has  alw^ays  been,  and  is  still,  our 
only  law.  She  has  never  had  time  to  express  a  wish  ;  she 
is  obeyed  before  she  has  spoken."  She  sighed  again,  and 
deeper  than  the  first  time.  "  You  have  just  seen,"  she  re- 
sumed, "  the  results  of  that  insane  way  of  bringing  her  up. 
And  yet  it  does  not  do  to  trust  appearances.  Cesarine,  be- 
lieve me,  is  not  as  strange  as  she  seems.  She  possesses 
solid  qualities,  those  which  a  man  expects  of  the  woman 
who  is  to  be  his  wife." 

"  I  believe  you,  madame,"  said  M.  de  Tregars,  without 
taking  his  eyes  off  the  looking-glass. 

"  With  her  father,  with  me  especially,  she  is  capricious, 
wilful,  and  violent ;  but  in  the  hands  of  the  husband  of  her 
choice  she  would  be  like  wax  in  the  hands  of  the  model- 
ler." 

The  man  in  the  other  room  had  finished  his  letter,  and, 
with  an  equivocal  smile  was  reading  it  over.  "  Believe 
me,  madame,"  replied  M.  de  Tregars,  "  I  perfectly  under- 
stood how  much  innocent  boasting  there  was  in  all  that 
Mademoiselle  Cesarine  told  me." 

"  Then,  really,  you  do  not  think  her  very  bad." 

"Your  heart  has  not  more  indulgence  for  her  than  my 
own." 

"And  yet  it  is  from  you  that  her  first  real  sorrow  comes." 
"  From  me  ?  " 

The  baroness  shook  her  head  in  a  melancholy  way,  to 
convey  an  idea  of  her  maternal  affection  and  anxiety. 
"Yes,  from  you,  my  dear  marquis,"  she  replied,  "  from  you 
alone.  On  the  very  day  you  entered  this  house,  Cesarine's 
whole  nature  changed." 

Having  read  his  letter  over,  the  man  folded  it,  and 
slipped  it  into  his  pocket,  and  leaving  his  seat,  seemed  to  be 
waiting  for  something.  M.  de  Tregars  was  following  in 
the  glass  his  every  motion,  with  the  most  eager  curiosity. 
And  nevertheless,  as  he  felt  the  absolute  necessity  of  say- 
ing something,  were  it  only  to  avoid  attracting  the  baron- 
ess's attention,  he  observed  :  "  What  !  Mademoiselle 
Cesarine's  nature  changed  so  suddenly  ?  " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


321 


In  one  night.  Had  she  not  met  the  hero  of  whom 
every  girl  dreams  ?  A  man  of  thirty,  bearing  one  of  the 
oldest  names  in  France.''  She  stopped,  expecting  an  an- 
swer, a  word,  an  exclamation.  But  as  M.  de  Tregars  said 
nothing,  she  asked  :  "  Did  you  never  notice  anything, 
then  ? 

"  Nothing." 

"  And  suppose  I  were  to  tell  you  myself,  that  my  poor 
Cesarine,  alas  !   loves  you  ?  " 

M.  de  Tregars  started.  Had  he  been  less  occupied  with 
the  personage  in  the  other  room,  he  would  certainly  not 
have  allowed  the  conversation  to  drift  into  this  channel. 
He  understood  his  mistake ;  and  in  an  icy  tone  replied : 
Permit  me,  madame,  to  believe  that  you  are  jesting.'' 

"  And  suppose  it  were  the  truth  " 

"  It  would  make  me  unhappy  in  the  extreme." 

"  Sir !  " 

"  For  the  reason  which  I  have  already  told  you,  that  I 
love  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  Favoral  with  the  deepest  and 
the  purest  love,  and  that  for  the  past  three  years  she 
has  been,  before  God,  my  affianced  bride." 

Angry  glances  appeared  in  Madame  de  Thaller's  eyes. 
"  And  I,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  tell  you  that  such  a  marriage 
is  absurd." 

"  I  wish  it  were  still  more  so,  that  I  might  the  better 
show  to  Gilberte  how  dear  she  is  to  me." 

Calm  in  appearance,  the  baroness  was  scratching  with 
her  nails  the  satin  of  the  chair  on  which  she  was  seated, 
"  Then,"  she  resumed,  "  your  resolution  is  settled.^  " 

"  Irrevocably." 

"  But  come  now,  between  ourselves  who  are  no  longer 
children,  suppose  M.  de  Thaller  were  to  double  Cesarine's 
dowry,  to  treble  it  ?  " 

An  expression  of  intense  disgust  contracted  the  young 
man's  manly  features.  Ah  !  not  another  word,  madame," 
he  interrupted. 

There  was  no  hope  left.  Madame  de  Thaller  fully  real- 
ized it  by  the  tone  in  which  he  spoke.  She  remained  pen- 
sive for  over  a  minute,  and  suddenly,  like  a  person  who 
has  finally  made  up  her  mind,  she  rang  the  bell.  A  foot- 
man appeared.  "  Do  what  I  told  you  !  "  she  ordered. 
And  as  soon  as  the  footman  had  gone,  turning  to  M.  de 
Tregars,  she  said  :  Alas !  who  would  have  thought  that 
21 


322 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


I  should  curse  the  day  when  you  first  entered  oui 
house  ? 

But  whilst  she  spoke  M.  de  Tregars  noticed  in  the  look- 
ing-glass the  result  of  the  order  she  had  just  given.  The 
footman  walked  into  the  principal  drawing-room,  spoke  a 
few  words,  and  the  man  with  the  alarming  countenance  at 
once  put  on  his  dirty  hat  and  went  out.  All  this  is  very 
strange  !  "  thought  M.  de  Tregars. 

Meantime  the  baroness  continued  :  "  If  your  intentions 
are  to  that  point  irrevocable,  how  is  it  that  you  are  here  ? 
You  have  too  much  experience  of  the  world  not  to  have 
understood,  this  morning,  the  object  of  my  visit  and  of  my 
allusions." 

Fortunately,  M.  de  Tregars's  attention  was  no  longer 
distracted  by  the  proceedings  in  the  next  room.  The 
decisive  moment  had  come ;  the  success  of  the  game  he 
was  playing  would,  perhaps,  depend  [upon  his  coolness 
and  self-command.  "  It  is  because  I  did  understand,  mad- 
ame,  and  even  better  than  you  suppose,  that  I  am  here." 

" Indeed ! " 

I  came  intending  to  deal  with  M.  de  Thaller  alone 
I  have  been  compelled,  by  what  has  happened,  to  alter 
my  intentions.    It  is  to  you  that  I  will  speak  first." 

Madame  de  Thaller  continued  to  manifest  the  same 
tranquil  assurance  ;  but  she  no  longer  reclined  in  her  seat. 
Feeling  the  approach  of  the  storm,  she  wished  to  be  ready 
to  meet  it.  "  You  honour  me  greatly,"  she  said  with  an 
ironical  smile. 

There  was,  henceforth,  no  human  power  capable  of 
turning  Marius  de  Tregars  from  the  object  he  had  in 
view.  "  It  is  to  you  I  will  speak,"  he  repeated,  "  because 
after  you  have  heard  me  you  may  perhaps  judge  that  it  is 
your  interest  to  join  me  in  endeavouring  to  obtain  from 
your  husband  what  I  ask,  what  I  demand,  what  I  must 
have." 

The  baroness  looked  at  him  with  an  air  of  surprise  mar- 
vellously well  simulated^  if  it  was  not  real. 

"My  father,"  he  proceeded  to  say,  "the  Marquis  de 
Tregars,  was  once  very  rich  :  he  possessed  several  miUions. 
And  yet  when  I  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  him  three 
years  ago,  he  was  so  thoroughly  ruined,  that  to  relieve 
the  scruples  of  his  honour,  and  to  make  his  death  easier, 
I  gave  up  to  his  creditors  all  I  had  in  the  world.  What 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


323 


had  become  of  my  father^s  fortune  ?  What  philter  had 
been  administered  to  him  to  induce  him  to  launch 
into  hazardous  speculations,  he,  an  old  Breton  nobleman, 
full,  even  to  absurdity,  of  the  most  obstinate  prejudices  of 
the  nobility  ?  That  is  what  I  wished  to  ascertain." 
*^Ah!" 

"  And  now,  madame,  I  have  ascertained.'' 

She  was  a  strong-minded  woman,  the  Baroness  de  Thal- 
ler. She  had  had  so  many  adventures  in  her  life,  she  had 
walked  on  the  edges  of  so  many  precipices,  concealed  so 
many  anxieties,  that  danger  was,  as  it  were,  her  element, 
and  that,  at  the  decisive  moment  of  an  almost  desperate 
game,  she  could  continue  smiling,  like  those  hardened 
gamblers  whose  faces  never  betray  their  terrible  emotion 
at  the  moment  when  they  risk  their  last  stake.  Not  a 
muscle  of  her  face  moved ;  and  it  was  with  the  most  imper- 
turbable calm  that  she  said  :  Continue,  I  am  listening  : 
it  must  be  quite  interesting.'^ 

That  was  not  the  way  to  propitiate  M.  de  Tregars.  He 
resumed,  in  a  brief  and  harsh  tone  :  When  my  father 
died  I  was  young.  I  did  not  know  then  what  I  have 
learned  since,  that  to  help  to  insure  the  impunity  of  knaves 
is  almost  to  make  one's  self  their  accomplice.  And  the 
victim  who  says  nothing,  and  submits,  does  help  to  insure 
it.  The  honest  man,  on  the  contrary,  should  speak,  and 
point  out  to  others  the  trap  into  which  he  has  fallen,  that 
they  may  avoid  it." 

The  baroness  was  listening  with  the  air  of  a  person  who 
is  compelled  by  politeness  to  hear  a  tiresome  story.  "  Thai 
is  a  rather  gloomy  preamble,"  she  observed. 

M.  de  Tregars  took  no  notice  of  the  interruption.  "  At 
all  times,"  he  continued,  "  my  father  seemed  careless  of 
his  affairs;  that  affectation,  he  thought,  was  due  to  the 
name  he  bore.  But  his  negligence  was  only  apparent.  I 
might  mention  things  of  him  that  would  do  honour  to  the 
most  methodical  tradesman.  He  had,  for  instance,  the 
habit  of  preserving  all  the  letters  of  any  importance  which 
he  received.  He  left  behind  him  twelve  or  fifteen  boxes 
full  of  them.  They  were  carefully  classified ;  and  many 
bore  upon  their  margins  a  few  notes  indicating  what  an- 
swer had  been  made  to  them." 

That  is  indeed  order,"  said  the  baroness,  half  sup. 
pressing  a  yawn,    if  I  know  anything  about  it." 


324 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  At  the  first  moment,  determined  not  to  stir  up  the  past, 
I  attached  no  importance  to  those  letters  ,  and  they  would 
certainly  have  been  burnt,  but  for  an  old  friend  of  the 
family,  the  Count  de  Villegre,  who  had  them  carried  to  his 
own  house.  But  later,  acting  under  the  influence  of  cir- 
oumstances  which  it  would  be  too  long  to  explain  to  you,! 
regretted  my  apathy ,  and  I  thought  that  I  should  perhaps 
find  in  that  correspondence  something  to  cither  dissipate 
or  justify  certain  suspicions  which  had  occured  to  me." 

"  So  that,  like  a  respectful  son,  you  read  it  ?  " 

M.  de  Tregars  bowed  ceremoniously.  "  I  believe,"  he 
said,  "  that  to  avenge  a  father  of  the  imposture  of  which 
he  was  the  victim  during  his  life,  is  to  render  homage  to 
his  memory.  Yes,  madame,  I  read  the  whole  of  that  cor- 
respondence, and  with  an  interest  which  you  will  soon  un- 
derstand. I  had  already,  and  without  result,  examined 
the  contents  of  several  boxes,  when  in  the  bundle  marked 
1852,  a  year  which  my  father  spent  in  Paris,  certain  letters 
attracted  my  attention.  They  were  written  upon  coarse 
paper,  in  a  very  primitive  hand-writing,  and  wretchedly 
badly  spelt.  They  were  signed  sometimes  Phrasie,  some- 
times  Marchioness  de  Javelle.  Some  gave  the  address, 
'  Rue  des  Bergers,  No.  3,  Paris-Grenelle.'  Those  letters 
left  me  no  doubt  upon  what  had  taken  place.  My  father 
had  met  a  young  work-girl  of  rare  beauty ,  he  had  taken  a 
fancy  to  her;  and,  as  he  was  tormented  by  the  fear  of  be- 
ing loved  for  his  money  alone,  he  had  passed  hmiself  off 
as  a  poor  clerk  in  one  of  the  ministries." 

"  Quite  a  touching  little  love-romance,"  remarked  the 
baroness. 

But  there  was  no  impertmence  that  could  affect  Marius 
de  Tregars's  coolness.  A  romance,  perhaps,"  he  said, 
"  but  in  that  case  a  money-romance,  not  a  love-romance. 
This  Phrasie,  or  Marchioness  de  Javelle,  announces  in  one 
of  her  letters,  that  in  February,  :^853,  she  had  given  birth 
to  a  daughter,  whom  she  has  confided  to  some  relatives  of 
hers  in  the  south,  near  Toulouse.  It  was  doulDtless  that 
event  which  induced  my  father  to  acknowledge  who  he 
was.  He  confesses  that  he  is  not  a  poor  clerk,  but  the 
Marquis  de  Tregars,  having  an  income  of  over  a  hundred 
thousand  francs.  At  once  the  tone  of  the  correspondence 
changes.  The  Marchioness  de  Javelle  is  very  dull  where 
she  lives ;  the  neighbours  reproach  her  with  her  fault ; 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY.  325 

work  spoils  her  pretty  hands.  Result :  less  than  two 
weeks  after  the  birth  of  her  daughter,  my  father  hires  for 
his  pretty  mistress  a  lovely  house  in  the  Rue  de  Bour- 
gogne,  which  she  occupies  under  the  name  of  Madame 
Deville ,  she  is  allowed  fifteen  hundred  francs  a  month, 
servants,  horses,  and  a  carriage." 

Madame.de  Thaller  was  giving  signs  of  the  utmost  impa- 
tience. Without  paying  any  attention  to  them,  M.  de  Tre- 
gars  proceeded  :  "  Henceforth,  free  to  see  each  other  daily, 
my  father  and  his  mistress  cease  to  write.  But  Madame  De- 
ville does  not  waste  her  time.  During  a  space  of  less  than 
eight  months,  from  February  to  September,  she  induces 
my  father  to  dispose — not  in  her  favour,  she  is  too  disin- 
terested for  that,  but  in  favour  of  her  daughter — of  a  sum 
exceeding  five  hundred  thousand  francs.  In  September, 
the  correspondence  is  resumed.  Madame  Deville  discovers 
that  she  is  not  happy,  and  acknowledges  it  in  a  letter, 
which  shows,  by  its  improved  writing  and  more  correct 
spelling,  that  she  has  been  taking  lessons.  She  complains 
of  her  precarious  situation  ;  the  future  frightens  her  ;  she 
longs  for  respectability.  Such  is,  for  three  months,  the 
constant  burden  of  her  correspondence.  She  regrets  the 
time  when  she  was  a  work-girl ,  why  has  she  been  so  weak  ? 
Then,  at  last,  in  a  note  which  betrays  long  debates  and 
stormy  discussions,  she  announces  that  she  has  an  unex- 
pected offer  of  marriage  ,  a  fine  fellow,  who,  if  she  only  had 
two  hundred  thousand  francs,  would  give  his  name  to  her- 
self and  to  her  darling  little  daughter.  For  a  long  time 
my  father  hesitates,  he  loves  his  pretty  mistress  so  much  ; 
but  she  presses  her  point  with  such  rare  skill,  she  demon- 
strates so  conclusively  that  this  marriage  will  insure  the 
happiness  of  their  child,  t-  at  my  father  yields  at  last,  and 
resigns  himself  to  the  sacriff  :e.  And  in  a  memorandum  on 
the  margin  of  a  last  letter,  lie  states  that  he  has  just  given 
two  hundred  thousand  francs  to  Madame  Deville  ;  that  he 
will  never  see  her  again  ,  and  that  he  returns  to  live  in 
Brittany,  where  he  wishes^  by  the  most  rigid  economy,  to 
repair  the  breach  he  has  just  made  in  his  fortune." 

"  Thus  end  all  these  love-stories,"  said  Madame  de  Thal- 
ler in  a  jesting  tone. 

I  beg  your  pardon,  this  one  is  not  ended  yet.  For 
many  years  my  father  kept  his  word,  and  never  left  our  home 
at  Tregars.    But  at  last  he  grew  tired  of  his  solitude,  and 


326 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


returned  to  Paris.  Did  he  seek  to  see  his  former  mistress 
again  ?  I  think  not.  I  rather  imagine  that  chance  brought 
them  together ;  or  else,  that,  being  aware  of  his  return,  she 
managed  to  put  herself  in  his  way.  He  found  her  more 
fascinating  than  ever,  and,  according  to  what  she  wrote 
him,  rich  and  respected ;  for  her  husband  had  become  a 
person  of  note.  She  would  have  been  perfectly  happy,  she 
added,  had  it  been  possible  for  her  to  forget  the  man  whom 
she  had  once  loved  so  much,  and  to  whom  she  owed  her 
position.  I  have  that  letter.  The  elegant  handwriting, 
the  style,  and  the  correct  orthography,  express  better  than 
anything  else  the  transformations  of  the  Marchioness  de 
Javelle  :  only  it  is  not  signed.  The  little  work-girl  has  be- 
come prudent ;  she  has  to  lose,  and  fears  to  compromise 
herself.  A  week  later,  in  a  laconic  note,  apparently  dicta- 
ted by  an  irresistible  passion,  she  begs  my  father  to  come 
to  see  her  at  her  own  house.  He  does  so,  and  finds  there 
a  little  girl,  whom  he  believes  to  be  his  own  child,  and  whom 
he  at  once  idolizes.  And  all  is  over.  Again  he  falls  under 
the  charm.  He  ceases  to  belong  to  himself ;  his  former 
mistress  can  dispose,  at  her  pleasure,  of  his  fortune  and  of 
his  fate.  But  see  now  what  bad  luck  !  The  husband  takes 
it  into  his  head  to  become  jealous  of  my  father's  visits. 
In  a  letter,  which  is  a  masterpiece  of  diplomacy,  the  lady 
explains  her  anxiety.  *  He  has  suspicions,'  she  writes ; 
'  and  to  what  extremities  might  he  not  resort  were  he  to 
discover  the  truth  !  '  And  with  infinite  art  she  insinuates 
that  the  best  way  to  justify  his  constant  presence  is  to  as- 
sociate nimself  with  that  jealous  husband.  It  is  with  child- 
ish haste  that  my  father  jumps  at  the  suggestion.  But 
money  is  needed.  He  sells  his  lands,  and  everywhere  an- 
nounces that  he  has  great  financial  ideas,  and  that  he  is 
going  to  increase  his  fortune  tenfold.  Soon  he  is  the  partner 
of  his  former  mistress's  husband  ;  engaged  in  speculations  ; 
director  of  a  company.  He  thinks  that  he  is  doing  an  ex- 
cellent business ;  he  is  convinced  that  he  is  making  lots  of 
money.  Poor  honest  man  !  They  prove  to  him,  one  morn- 
ing, that  he  is  ruined,  and,  what  is  more,  compromised. 
And  this  is  made  to  look  so  much  like  the  truths  that  I  in- 
terfere myself  and  pay  the  creditors.  We  were  ruined  \ 
but  honour  was  safe.  A  few  weeks  later  my  father  died 
broken-hearted." 

Madame  de  Thaller  half  rose  from  her  chair  with  a  gest 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


327 


ure  which  indicated  the  joy  of  escaping  at  last  from  a  mer- 
ciless bore.  A  glance  from  M.  de  Tregars  riveted  her  to 
her  seat,  freezing  upon  her  lips  the  jest  she  was  about  to 
utter. 

"  I  have  not  done  yet,"  he  said  roughly. 

And,  without  suffering  any  interruption,  he  resumed  : 
"  From  this  correspondence  resulted  the  flagrant,  irrefuta- 
ble proof  of  a  shameful  intrigue,  long  since  suspected  by 
my  old  friend.  General  Count  de  Villegre.  It  become  evi- 
dent to  me  that  my  poor  father  had  been  most  shamefully 
imposed  upon  by  that  mistress  so  handsome  and  so  dearly 
loved  :  and,  later,  despoiled  by  her  husband.  But  all  this 
availed  me  nothing.  Being  ignorant  of  my  father's  life  and 
connections,  the  letter  giving  neither  a  name  nor  a  precise 
detail,  I  knew  not  whom  to  accuse.  Besides,  in  order  to 
accuse,  it  is  necessary  to  have,  at  least,  some  material 
proof." 

The  baroness  had  resumed  her  seat ;  and  everything 
about  her- — her  attitude,  her  gestures,  the  motion  of  her  lips 
— seemed  to  say  :  You  are  my  guest.  Civility  has  its 
demands ;  but  really  you  abuse  your  privileges." 

M.  de  Tregars  continued  :  ''At  that  moment  I  was  still 
a  sort  of  savage,  wholly  absorbed  in  my  experiments,  and 
scarcely  ever  setting  foot  outside  my  laboratory.  I  was 
indignant ;  I  ardently  wished  to  find  and  to  punish  the  vil- 
lains who  robbed  us ;  but  I  knew  not  how  to  go  about  it, 
nor  in  what  direction  to  seek  information.  The  wretches 
would,  perhaps,  have  gone  unpunished,  but  for  a  good  and 
worthy  man,  now  a  commissary  of  police,  to  whom  I  once 
rendered  a  slight  service,  one  night,  in  a  riot,  when  he  was 
close-pressed  by  some  half-dozen  rascals.  I  explained  the 
situation  to  him  ;  he  took  much  interest  in  it,  promised  his 
assistance,  and  marked  out  my  line  of  conduct." 

Madame  de  Thaller  moved  restlessly  upon  her  chair.  "  I 
must  confess,"  she  began,  "  that  I  am  not  wholly  mistress 
of  my  time.  I  am  dressed,  as  you  see,  and  I  have  to  go 
out." 

If  she  had  preserved  any  hope  of  adjourning  the  expla- 
nation which  she  felt  coming,  she  must  have  lost  it  when 
she  heard  the  tone  in  which  M.  de  Tregars  interrupted 
her.  "  You  can  go  out  to-morrow."  And,  without  hurry- 
ing, he  resumed  :  ''  Advised,  as  I  have  just  told  you,  and 
assisted  by  the  experience  of  a  professional  man,  I  went 


328 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


first  to  No.  3  Rue  des  Bergers,  in  Crenelle.  I  found  there 
some  old  people,  the  foreman  of  a  neighbouring  factory 
and  his  wife,  who  had  been  living  in  the  house  for  nearly 
twenty- five  years.  At  my  first  question,  they  exchanged  a 
glance,  and  commenced  laughing.  They  remembered  per- 
fectly the  Marchioness  de  Javelle,  which  was  but  a  nick- 
name for  a  young  and  pretty  laundress,  whose  real  name 
was  Euphrasie  Taponnet.  She  had  lived  for  eighteen 
months  on  the  same  landing  as  themselves  ;  she  had  a  lover, 
who  passed  himself  off  for  a  clerk,  but  who  was  in  fact,  she 
had  told  them,  a  very  wealthy  nobleman.  They  added 
that  she  had  given  birth  to  a  little  girl,  and  that,  two  weeks 
later,  she  disappeared,  and  they  never  heard  of  her  again. 
When  I  left  them,  they  said  to  me,  '  If  you  see  Phrasie, 
ask  her  if  she  recollects  old  Chandour  and  his  wife.  She 
is  sure  to  remember  us.' 

For  the  first  time,  Madame  de  Thaller  shuddered  slightly, 
but  almost  imperceptibly. 

From  Grenelle,"  continued  M.  de  Tregars,  "  I  went  to 
the  house  in  the  Rue  de  Bourgogne  where  my  father's 
mistress  had  lived  under  the  name  of  Madame  Deville.  I 
was  in  luck.  I  found  there  the  same  concierge  as  in  1853. 
As  soon  as  I  mentioned  Madame  Deville  she  answered  me 
that  she  had  not  in  the  least  forgotten  her,  but  on  the  con- 
trary, would  know  her  among  a  thousand.  She  was,  she 
said,  one  of  the  prettiest  little  women  she  had  ever  seen, 
and  the  most  generous  tenant.  I  understood  the  hint, 
handed  her  a  couple  of  napoleons,  and  learnt  from  her 
everything  she  knew  on  the  subject.  It  seemed  that  this 
pretty  Madame  Deville  had  not  one  lover,  but  two — the 
acknowledged  one,  who  was  the  master,  and  who  footed  the 
bills  ;  and  the  other,  an  anonymous  one,  who  went  out  by 
the  back-stairs,  and  who  did  not  pay  on  the  contrary. 
The  first  was  the  Marquis  de  Tregars ;  of  the  second  she 
had  never  known  but  the  first  name,  Frederic.  I  tried  to 
ascertain  what  had  become  of  Madame  Deville  ;  but  the 
worthy  concierge  swore  to  me  that  she  did  not  know.  One 
morning  like  a  person  who  is  going  to  emigrate  or  who 
wishes  to  disappear  from  amongst  her  acquaintances  Mad- 
ame Deville  had  sent  for  a  furniture-dealer,  and  a  dealer 
in  second-hand  clothes,  and  had  sold  them  everything  she 
had,  going  away  with  nothing  but  a  little  leather  satchel, 
in  which  were  her  jewels  and  her  money." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


329 


The  Baroness  de  Thaller  still  kept  a  good  countenance. 
After  examining  her  for  a  moment  with  a  sort  of  eager  cu- 
riosity, Marius  de  Tregars  went  on  :  When  I  communi- 
cated this  information  to  my  friend,  the  commissary  of 
police,  he  shook  his  head.  '  Two  years  ago,'  he  told  me 
'  that  would  have  been  more  than  sufficient  to  find  those 
people  ;  for  the  public  records  would  have  given  us  at  once 
the  key  of  this  enigma.  But  we  have  had  the  war  and  the 
Commune;  and  the  books  of  record  are  all  burnt.  Still 
we  must  not  give  in.  A  last  hope  remains  ;  and  I  know  a 
man  who  is  capable  of  realizing  it.  Two  days  after  he 
brought  me  an  excellent  fellow,  named  Victor  Chupin,  in 
whom  I  could  have  entire  confidence ;  for  he  was  recom- 
mended to  me  by  one  of  the  men  whom  I  like  and  esteem 
the  most,  the  Duke  de  Champdoce.  Giving  up  all  idea  of 
applying  at  the  various  mayors'  offices,  Victor  Chupin  with 
the  patience  and  the  tenacity  of  an  Indian  following  a  trail, 
began  searching  the  districts  of  Grenelle,  Vaugirard,  and 
the  Invalides.  And  not  in  vain  ;  for  at  the  end  of  a  week  he 
brought  me  a  monthly  nurse,  residing  in  the  Rue  de  1'  Uni- 
versite,  who  remembered  perfectly  having  once  attended  on 
the  occasion  of  her  confinement,  a  remarkably  pretty  young 
woman,  living  in  the  Rue  des  Berges,  and  nicknamed  the 
Marchioness  de  Javelle.  And  as  she  was  a  very  orderly 
woman,  who  at  all  times  had  kept  a  very  exact  account  of 
her  receipts,  she  brought  me  a  little  book  in  which  I  read 
this  entry ;  *  For  attending  Euphrasie  Taponnet  alias  the 
Marchioness  de  Javelle,  a  girl,  one  hundred  francs.'  And 
this  is  not  all.  This  woman  informed  me  that  she  had 
been  requested  to  present  the  child  at  the  mayor's  office, 
and  that  she  had  been  duly  registered  there  under  the 
names  of  Euphrasie  Cesarine  Taponnet,  born  of  Euphrasie 
Taponnet,  laundress,  and  an  unknown  father.  Finally  she 
placed  at  my  disposal  her  account-book  and  her  testimony." 

Taxed  beyond  measure,  the  baroness's  energy  was  be- 
ginning to  fail  her ;  she  was  turning  ghastly  pale  under  her 
rice-powder. 

"You  must  understand,  madame,"  continued  Marius  de 
Tregars  in  the  same  icy  tone,  "  that  this  woman's  testi- 
mony, together  with  the  letters  which  are  in  my  possession, 
enable  me  to  establish  in  a  court  of  justice  the  exact  date 
of  the  birth  of  a  daughter  whom  my  father  had  of  his  mis- 
tress.   But  that  is  nothing  as  yet.     With  renewed  zeal 


330 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


Victor  Chupin  resumed  his  investigations.  lie  undertook 
the  examination  of  the  marriage-registers  in  all  the  parishes 
of  Paris,  and  as  early  as  the  following  week  he  discovered 
at  Notre  Dame  de  Lorette  the  entry  of  the  marriage  of 
Euphrasie  Taponnet  with  Frederic  de  Thaller/^ 

Though  she  must  have  expected  that  name,  the  baroness 
started  up  violently.  *^  It's  false  ! she  began  in  a  choking 
voice. 

A  smile  of  ironical  pity  passed  over  Marius's  lips. 

Five  minutes'  reflection  will  prove  to  you  that  it  is  use- 
less to  deny,"  he  interrupted.  "  But  wait.  In  the  books 
of  that  same  church,  Victor  Chupin  has  found  registered 
the  baptism  of  a  daughter  of  M.  and  Madame  de  Thaller, 
bearing  the  same  christian  names  as  the  first  one :  Eu- 
phrasie Cesarine.'' 

Convulsively  the  baroness  shrugged  her  shoulders. 
"  What  does  all  this  prove  ? ''  she  asked. 

This  proves,  madame,  the  well-settled  intention  of  sub- 
stituting one  child  for  another ;  this  proves  that  my  father 
was  imprudently  deceived  when  he  was  made  to  believe 
that  the  second  Cesarine  was  his  daughter,  the  daughter  in 
whose  favour  he  had  formely  disposed  of  over  five  hundred 
thousand  francs  ;  this  proves  that  there  is  somewhere  in  the 
world  a  poor  girl  who  has  been  basely  abandoned  by  her 
mother,  the  Marchioness  de  Javelle,  now  become  the  Baro- 
ness de  Thaller.'' 

"  That  is  an  infamous  lie ! "  exclaimed  the  baroness, 
beside  herself  with  terror  and  rage. 

M.  de  Tregars  bowed.  "  The  evidence  of  the  truth  of 
my  statements,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  find  at  Louveciennes, 
and  at  the  Hotel  des  Folies,  Boulevard  du  Temple,  Paris." 

Night  had  come.  A  footman  entered  carrying  lamps, 
which  he  placed  upon  the  mantelpiece.  He  was  not  alto- 
gether one  minute  in  the  little  drawing-room  ;  but  that  one 
minute  was  enough  to  enable  the  Baroness  de  Thaller  to 
recover  her  calmness,  and  to  collect  her  ideas.  When  the 
footman  retired  she  had  made  up  her  mind,  with  the  resolute 
promptness  of  a  person  accustomed  to  perilous  situations. 
She  gave  up  the  dispute,  and  drawing  near  to  M.  de  Tre- 
gars, she  said  :  Enough  allusions,  let  us  speak  frankly  and 
^  face  to  face.    What  do  you  want  ?  " 

But  the  change  was  too  sudden  not  to  arouse  Marius's 
suspicions.      I  w^ant  a  great  many  things,"  he  replied. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  Still,  you  must  specify/' 

"  Well,  I  claim  first  the  five  hundred  thousand  francs 
which  my  father  had  settled  upon  his  daughter,  the  daugh- 
ter whom  you  cast  off." 

"  And  what  next  ? 
I  want,  besides,  my  own  and  my  father's  fortune,  of 
which  M.  de  Thaller  robbed  us,  with  your  assistance." 

"Well,  is  that  all.?  " 

M.  de  Tregars  shook  his  head.    "That  is  nothing  as 
yet,"  he  replied. 
"  Oh ! " 

"  We  have  now  to  say  something  of  Vincent  Favoral's 
affairs." 

An  attorney  who  is  defending  the  interests  of  a  client 
is  neither  calmer  nor  cooler  than  was  Madame  de  Thaller 
at  that  moment.  "  Do  the  affairs  of  my  husband's  cash- 
ier concern  me,  then  1 "  she  asked  with  a  shade  of  irony « 

"Yes,  madame,  very  much." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it." 

"  I  know  it  from  an  excellent  source,  because,  on  my 
return  from  Louveciennes,  I  called  in  the  Rue  du  Cirque, 
where  I  saw  Madame  Zelie  Cadelle." 

He  thought  that  the  baroness  would  at  least  start  on 
hearing  that  name.  Not  at  all.  With  a  look  of  profound 
astonishment  she  repeated,  like  a  person  who  is  making  a 
prodigious  effort  of  memory  :  "  Rue  du  Cirque  !  Zelie 
Cadelle  !    Really,  I  do  not  understand." 

But,  from  the  glance  which  M.  de  Tregars  cast  upon  her, 
she  must  have  understood  that  she  would  not  easily  draw 
from  him  the  particulars  which  he  had  resolved  not  to  tell. 
"  I  believe,  on  the  contrary,"  he  said,  "  that  you  under- 
stand perfectly." 

"  Be  it  so,  if  you  insist  upon  it.  What  do  you  ask  for 
Favor  al  1 " 

"  I  demand,  not  for  Favoral,  but  for  the  shareholders 
who  have  been  impudently  defrauded,  the  twelve  millions 
which  are  missing  from  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank." 

Madame  de  Thaller  burst  out  laughing.  "  Only  that  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Yes,  only  that !  " 

"Well,  then,  it  seems  to  me  that  you  should  address 
your  reclamations  to  M.  Favoral  himself.  You  have  the 
right  to  run  after  him." 


332 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  It  is  useless,  for  the  reason  that  it  is  not  he,  the  poor 
fool,  who  has  carried  off  the  twelve  millions." 
Who  has  them,  then  ? 

"  The  Baron  cle  Thaller,  no  doubt." 

**You  are  mad,  my  poor  marquis,"  said  Madame  de 
Thaller  with  that  accent  of  pity  which  one  assumes  to 
reply  to  an  absurd  proposition. 

"  You  do  not  think  so." 

"  But  suppose  I  should  refuse  to  do  anything  more  1 " 
He  fixed  upon  her  a  glance  in  which  she  could  read  an 
irrevocable  determination  :  "  I  have  a  perfect  horror  of 
scandal,"  he  replied  slowly,  "  and,  as  you  perceive,  I  am 
trying  to  arrange  everything  quietly  between  ourselves. 
But,  if  I  do  not  succeed  thus,  I  must  appeal  to  the  law- 
courts." 

"Where  are  your  proofs  ?  " 

"  Do  not  be  afraid ;  I  have  proofs  to  sustain  all  my 
allegations." 

The  baroness  reclined  comfortably  in  her  arm-chair. 
"  May  one  know  them  ? "  she  inquired. 

Marius  was  getting  somewhat  uneasy  in  the  presence  of 
Madame  de  Thaller's  imperturbable  assurance.  What 
hope  had  she  .J*  Could  she  see  some  means  of  escape 
from  a  situation  apparently  so  desperate  ?  Determined  to 
prove  to  her  that  all  was  lost,  and  that  she  had  nothing  to 
do  but  to  surrender,  he  replied  :  "  Oh  !  I  know,  madame, 
that  you  have  taken  your  precautions.  But  when  Provi- 
dence interferes,  you  see,  human  foresight  does  not 
amount  to  much.  See,  rather,  what  happens  in  regard  to 
your  first  daughter,  the  one  you  had  when  you  were  still 
only  Marchioness  de  Javelle."  And  briefly  he  related  to 
her  the  principal  incidents  of  Mademoiselle  Lucienne's 
life  from  the  time  that  she  had  left  her  with  tlie  poor  gar- 
deners at  Louveciennes,  without  giving  either  her  name  or 
her  address  ;  the  injury  the  young  girl  had  received  by  be- 
ing run  over  by  Madame  de  Thaller's  carriage  ;  the  long 
letter  she  had  written  from  the  hospital,  begging  for  assist- 
ance ;  her  visit  to  the  house,  and  her  meeting  with  the 
Baron  de  Thaller ;  the  effort  to  induce  her  to  emigrate  to 
America ;  her  arrest  by  means  of  false  information,  and 
her  acquittal,  thanks  to  the  kind  police-officer  ;  the  attempt 
upon  her  life  as  she  was  going  home  late  one  night ;  and, 
finally,  her  imprisonment  after  the  Commune,  among  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


333 


petroleuses,  and  her  release  through  the  interference  of  the 
same  honest  friend.  And  charging  her  with  the  responsi- 
biUty  of  all  these  infamous  acts,  he  paused  for  an  answer 
or  a  protest.  But  as  Madame  de  Thaller  said  nothing,  he 
resumed :  "  You  are  looking  at  me,  madame,  and  won- 
dering how  I  have  discovered  all  this.  A  single  word  will 
explain  it  all.  The  police-ofBcer  who  saved  your  daughter 
is  precisely  the  same  to  whom  it  w^as  once  my  good  for- 
tune to  render  a  service.  By  comparing  notes  we  have 
gradually  reached  the  truth,  and  reached  you,  madame. 
Will  you  acknowledge  now  that  I  have  more  proofs  than 
are  necessary  to  apply  to  justice 

Whether  she  acknowledged  it  or  not,  she  did  not  conde- 
scend to  argue.    "  What  then  ?    she  asked  coldly. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  w^as  too  much  on  his  guard  to  expose 
himself,  by  continuing  to  speak  thus,  to  reveal  the  secret 
of  his  designs.  Besides,  w^hilst  he  was  thoroughly  satis- 
fied as  to  the  manoeuvres  used  to  defraud  his  father,  he 
had,  as  yet,  but  presumptions  on  what  concerned  Vincent 
Favoral.  "  Permit  me  not  to  say  another  word,  madame,'* 
he  replied.  "  I  have  told  you  enough  to  enable  you  to 
judge  of  the  value  of  my  weapons." 

She  must  have  felt  that  she  could  not  make  him  change 
his  mind,  for  she  rose  from  her  chair.  "  That  is  suffi- 
cient,'' she  said.  "  I  will  reflect ;  and  to-morrow  I  will 
give  you  an  answer." 

She  was  about  to  leave  the  room ;  but  M.  de  Tregars 
quickly  placed  himself  between  her  and  the  door.  "  Excuse 
me,"  he  said ;  "  but  it  is  not  to-morrow  that  I  want  an  an- 
swer, it  is  to-night,  this  instant !  " 

Ah,  if  she  could  but  have  annihilated  him  with  a  look  ! 
"  Why,  this  is  violence  !  "  she  said  in  a  voice  which  be- 
trayed the  incredible  effort  she  was  making  to  control 
herself. 

"It  is  imposed  upon  me  by  circumstances,  madame." 
"You  would  be  less  exacting  if  my  husband  were 
here." 

He  must  have  been  within  hearing ;  for  the  door  im- 
mediately opened,  and  he  appeared  upon  the  threshold. 
There  are  people  for  w^hom  the  unforeseen  does  not  exist, 
and  whom  no  event  can  disconcert.  Having  ventured 
everything,  they  expect  everything.  Such  was  the  Baron 
de  Thaller.    With  a  sagacious  glance  he  examined  his 


334 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


wife  and  M.  de  Tregars  :  and  in  a  cordial  tone  he  said. 
"  Why  you  are  quarrelling  here  ? " 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come ! "  exclaimed  the  baroness. 

"What  is  the  matter?" 

"  The  matter  is  that  M.  de  Tregars  is  endeavouring  to 
take  an  odious  advantage  of  some  incidents  of  our  past 
life." 

"  There's  woman's  exaggeration  for  you  !  "  said  M.  de 
Thaller  laughing.  And  holding  out  his  hand  to  Marius, 
he  added  *.  Let  me  make  your  peace  for  you,  my  dear 
marquis  ;  it  is  within  my  province  as  husband." 

But  instead  of  taking  his  extended  hand,  M.  de  Tregars 
stepped  back.  There  is  no  more  peace  possible  between 
us,  sir :  I  am  an  enemy." 

"  An  enemy  ! "  repeated  the  baron  in  a  tone  of  surprise 
which  was  wonderfully  well  assumed,  if  it  was  not  real. 

"  Yes,"  interrupted  the  baroness  ;  "  and  I  must  speak  to 
you  at  once,  Frederic.  Come,  M.  de  Tregars  will  wait  for 
you."  And  she  led  her  husband  into  the  adjoining  room, 
not  without  first  casting  upon  Marius  a  look  of  triumphant 
hatred. 

Left  alone  M.  de  Tregars  sat  down.  Far  from  annoying 
him,  this  sudden  intervention  of  the  manager  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank  seemed  to  him  a  stroke  of  fortune.  It  spared 
him  an  explanation  more  painful  still  than  the  first,  and 
the  unpleasant  necessity  of  having  to  confound  a  villain  by 
proving  his  infamy  to  him.  "  And  besides,"  he  thought, 
"  when  the  husband  and  the  wife  have  consulted  with  each 
other,  they  will  acknowledge  that  they  cannot  resist,  and 
that  it  is  best  to  surrender."  The  deliberation  was  brief. 
In  less  than  ten  minutes  M.  de  Thaller  returned  alone. 
He  was  pale  ;  and  his  face  expressed  well  the  grief  of  an 
honest  man  who  discovers  too  late  that  he  has  misplaced 
his  confidence. 

"  My  wife  has  told  me  all,  sir,"  he  began. 

M.  de  Tregars  had  risen.    "Well  ?  "  he  asked. 

"You  see  me  distressed.  Ah,  marquis,  how  could  1 
ever  expect  such  a  thing  from  you  ?  you  whom  I  thought  I 
had  the  right  to  look  upon  as  a  friend.  Yet  it  is  you,  who 
when  a  great  misfortune  befalls  me,  attempts  to  give  me 
the  finishing  stroke.  It  is  you  who  would  crush  me  under 
the  weight  of  slanders  gathered  in  the  gutter." 

M.  de  Tregars  stopped  him  with  a  gesture,    "  Madame 


OTHER  FEOPLKS  MONEY. 


33S 


de  Thaller  cannot  have  correctly  repeated  my  words  to 
you,  else  you  would  not  utter  that  word  *  slander.' 

*^She  has  repeated  them  to  me  without  the  least 
change." 

Then  she  cannot  have  told  you  the  importance  of  the 
proofs  I  have  in  my  possession." 

There  is  scarcely  a  family,"  resumed  the  baron,  "  in 
which  there  is  not  one  of  those  painful  secrets  which  one 
tries  to  withhold  from  the  wickedness  of  the  world.  There 
is  one  in  mine.  Yes,  it  is  true,  that  before  our  marriage 
my  wife  had  a  child,  whom  poverty  had  compelled  her  to 
abandon.  We  have  since  done  everything  that  was 
humanly  possible  to  find  that  child,  but  without  success. 
It  is  a  great  misfortune  which  has  weighed  upon  our  life ; 
but  it  is  not  a  crime.  If,  however,  you  deem  it  your  inter- 
est to  divulge  our  secret,  and  to  disgrace  a  woman,  you  are 
free  to  do  so  ;  I  cannot  prevent  you.  But  I  declare  to  you 
that  is  the  only  fact  in  all  your  accusations.  You  say  that 
your  father  was  duped  and  defrauded.  From  whom  did 
you  get  such  an  idea  r  From  Marcolet,  doubtless,  a  man 
without  a  character,  who  has  become  my  mortal  enemy 
since  the  day  when  he  tried  a  sharp  game  on  me,  and  came 
out  second  best.  Or  from  Costeclar,  perhaps,  who  does 
not  forgive  me  for  having  refused  him  my  daughter's  hand, 
and  who  hates  me  because  I  know  that  he  committed  for- 
ger}' once,  and  that  he  would  be  in  prison  but  for  your 
father's  extreme  indulgence.  Well  Costeclar  and  Marco- 
let  have  deceived  you.  If  the  Marquis  de  Tregars  ruined 
himself  it  is  because  he  undertook  a  business  that  he 
knew  nothing  about,  and  speculated  right  and  left.  It 
does  not  take  long  to  lose  a  fortune,  even  without  the 
assistance  of  thieves.  As  to  pretending  that  I  have  bene- 
fited by  the  embezzlements  of  my  cashier,  tlmt  is  simply 
stupid  ;  and  there  can  be  no  one  to  suggest  such  a  thing, 
except  Jottras  and  Saint-Pavin,  two  scoundrels  whom  I 
have  had  ten  times  the  opportunity  to  send  to  prison,  and 
who  were  Favoral's  accomplices.  Besides,  the  matter  is  in 
the  hands  of  justice  ;  and  I  shall  prove  in  the  broad  day- 
light of  the  court-room  as  I  have  already  done  in  the  office 
of  the  investigating  magistrate,  that  to  save  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank,  I  have  sacrificed  more  than  half  my  private 
fortune." 

"Conclude,  sir,"  harshly  interrupted  M.  de  Tregars,  tired 


336 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


of  this  speech,  the  evident  object  of  which  was  to  lead  him 
to  discuss,  and  to  betray  himself. 

"  To  conclude  is  easy  enough,^'  replied  the  baron  still  in 
the  same  placid  tone.  My  wife  has  told  me  that  you  are 
about  to  marry  the  daughter  of  my  old  cashier ;  a  very 
charming  girl,  but  without  a  sou.  She  must  have  a 
dowry." 

"  Sir ! " 

"  Let  us  show  our  hands.  I  am  in  a  critical  position  ; 
you  know  it,  and  you  are  trying  to  take  advantage  of  it. 
Very  well ;  we  can  still  come  to  an  understanding.  What 
would  you  say,  if  I  w^ere  to  give  to  Mademoiselle  Gilberte 
the  dowry  I  intended  for  my  daughter  ? 

All  M.  do  Tregars's  blood  rushed  to  his  face.  Ah,  not 
another  word  !  "  he  exclaimed  with  a  violent  gesture.  But 
controllmg  himself  almost  at  once,  he  added  :  "  I  demand 
my  father's  fortune.  I  demand  that  you  restore  to  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank  the  millions  which  have  been  ab- 
stracted." 

"  And  if  not  ?  " 

*'Then  I  shall  place  the  matter  in  the  hands  of  the 
police." 

They  remained  for  a  moment  face  to  face,  looking  into 
each  other's  eyes.  At  length,  M.  de  Tregars  asked  : 
"  What  have  you  decided  ?  " 

Without,  perhaps,  suspecting  that  his  offer  was  a  fresh 
insult,  M.  de  Thaller  replied  :  I  will  go  as  far  as  fifteen 
hundred  thousand  francs,  and  I  will  pay  cash.' 

"  Is  that  your  last  word  ?  " 

"  It  is." 

If  I  inform  against  you,  with  the  proofs  in  my  hands, 
you  are  lost.'' 

"  We'll  see  about  that." 

To  insist  further  would  have  been  puerire.  "  Very  well, 
we'll  see,  then,"  said  M.  de  Tregars.    And  he  walked  out. 

As  he  got  into  his  cab,  which  had  been  waiting  for  him 
at  the  door,  he  could  not  help  wondering  what  gave  the 
Baron  de  Thaller  so  much  assurance,  and  whether  he  was 
not  mistaken  in  his  conjectures.  It  was  nearly  eight 
o'clock,  and  Maxence,  Madame  Favoral,  and  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte  must  have  been  waiting  for  him  with  feverish  im- 
patience ;  but  he  had  eaten  nothing  since  morning,  and 
he  stopped  the  cab  in  front  of  one  of  the  restaurants  of  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


337 


Boulevard.  He  had  just  ordered  his  dinner,  when  a  mid- 
dle-aged gentleman,  but  active  and  vigorous  still,  of  mili- 
tary bearing,  wearing  a  moustache  and  with  multi-coloured 
decorations  at  his  buttonhole,  came  and  took  a  seat  at  the 
adjoining  table.  In  less  than  fifteen  minutes  M.  de  Tre- 
gars  had  despatched  a  bowl  of  soup  and  a  slice  of  beef, 
and  was  hastening  out,  when,  without  his  being  able  to 
understand  how  it  had  happened,  his  foot  struck  his  neigh- 
bour's leg.  Though  fully  convinced  that  it  was  not  his 
fault,  he  hastened  to  apologise.  But  the  other  began  to 
talk  angrily,  and  so  loud,  that  everybody  turned  round. 
Vexed  as  he  was,  Marius  renewed  his  apologies.  But  the 
other,  like  those  cowards  who  think  they  have  found  a 
greater  coward  than  themselves,  was  pouring  forth  a  torrent 
of  the  grossest  insults.  M.  de  Tregars  was  lifting  his 
hand  to  administer  a  well-deserved  correction,  when  sud- 
denly the  scene  in  the  principal  drawing-room  of  the  De 
Thaller  mansion  came  back  vividly  to  his  mind.  He  saw 
again,  as  in  the  mirror,  the  ill-looking  man  listening,  with 
an  anxious  look,  to  Madame  de  Thaller's  propositions,  and 
afterwards  sitting  down  to  write.  That's  it !  "  he 
exclaimed,  a  multitude  of  circumstances  occurring  to  his 
mind,  which  had  escaped  him  at  the  moment.  And,  with- 
out further  reflection,  seizing  his  adversary  by  the  throat, 
he  threw  him  over  on  the  table,  holding  him  down  with  his 
knee. 

"  I  am  sure  he  has  the  letter  about  him,"  he  said  to  the 
people  who  surrounded  them. 

And  in  fact  he  did  take  from  the  breast  pocket  of  the 
villain's  coat,  a  letter  which  he  unfolded  and  read  aloud  : 

I  am  waiting  for  you,  my  dear  major  come  quickly,  for 
the  thing  is  pressing.  A  troublesome  gentleman  who  is  to 
be  made  to  keep  quiet.  It  will  be  for  you  the  matter  of  a 
sword-thrust,  and  for  us  the  occasion  to  share  a  pretty 
large  amount."  "  And  that's  why  he  picked  a  quarrel 
with  me,"  added  M.  de  Tregars. 

Two  waiters  took  hold  of  the  villain,  who  was  struggling 
furiously,  and  they  talked  of  handing  him  over  to  the  po- 
lice. 

What  is  the  use  ?  "  said  Marius.  I  have  his  letter, 
and  that  is  enough.  The  police  will  find  him  when  they 
want  him."  And,  re-entering  his  cab,  he  said  to  the  dri- 
ver :  "  Rue  St.  Gilles,  as  quickly  as  possible." 

22 


338 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


VII. 

In  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  the  hours  were  dragging  along 
slow  and  gloomy.  After  Maxence  left  to  go  and  meet  M. 
de  Tregars,  Madame  Favoral  and  her  daughter  remained 
alone  with  M.  Chapelain,  and  were  compelled  to  bear  the 
brunt  of  his  wrath,  and  to  hear  his  interminable  complaints. 
He  was  certainly  an  excellent  man,  the  old  lawyer,  and 
too  just  to  hold  either  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  or  her  moth- 
er responsible  for  Vincent  Favoral's  acts.  He  spoke  the 
truth  when  he  stated  that  he  ^entertained  for  them  a  sincere 
affection,  and  that  they  might  rely  upon  his  devotion. 
But  he  had  lost  a  hundred  and  sixty  thousand  francs ;  and 
a  man  who  loses  such  a  large  sum  is  naturally  in  a  bad 
humour,  and  not  much  disposed  to  optimism.  The  cruel- 
lest enemies  of  the  poor  woman  would  not  have  tortured 
them  more  mercilessly  than  this  devoted  friend.  He  did 
not  spare  them  a  single  sad  detail  of  the  meeting  at  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank,  from  which  he  had  just  come.  He 
exaggerated  the  proud  assurance  of  the  manager,  and  the 
confiding  simplicity  of  the  shareholders.  The  Baron  de 
Thaller,"  he  said  to  them,  "  is  certainly  the  most  impudent 
scoundrel  and  the  cleverest  rascal  I  have  ever  met  with. 
You'll  see  that  he'll  get  out  of  it  with  clean  hands  and  full 
pockets.  Whether  or  not  he  has  accomplices,  Vincent 
will  be  the  scapegoat.  We  must  make  up  our  minds  to 
that."  His  desire  was  to  console  Madame  Favoral  and 
Gilberte  ;  but  had  he  sworn  to  drive  them  lo  distraction, 
he  could  not  have  succeeded  better.  "  Poor  woman  J  "  he 
added,  what  is  to  become  of  you  ?  Maxence  is  a  good 
and  honest  fellow,  I  am  sure,  but  so  weak,  so  thoughtless, 
so  fond  of  pleasure  !  He  finds  it  difficult  enough  to  get 
along  by  himself.  Of  what  assistance  will  he  be  to  you  ? " 
Then  came  advice.  Madame  Favoral,  he  declared,  should 
not  hesitate  to  ask  for  a  separation,  which  she  would  cer- 
tainly obtain.  For  want  of  this  precaution,  she  would 
remain  all  her  life  under  the  burden  of  her  husband's 
debts,  and  constantly  exposed  to  the  annoyances  of  his 
creditors.  And  continually  he  wound  up  by  saying: 
"  Who  would  ever  have  expected  such  a  thing  of  Vincent, 
a  friend  of  twenty  years'  standing  !    A  hundred  and  sixty 


-4 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


339 


thousand  francs !  Who  in  the  world  can  be  trusted 
now  ? 

Big  tears  were  rolling  slowly  down  Madame  Favoral's 
withered  cheeks.  But  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  was  of  those 
for  whom  the  pity  of  others  is  the  worst  misfortune  and 
the  most  acute  suffering.  Twenty  times  she  was  on  the 
point  of  exclaiming  :  "  Keep  your  compassion,  sir ;  we  are 
neither  so  much  to  be  pitied  nor  so  much  forsaken  as  you 
seem  to  think.  Our  misfortune  has  revealed  to  us  a  true 
friend  ;  one  who  does  not  speak,  but  who  acts."  At  last, 
as  twelve  o'clock  struck,  M.  Chapelain  withdrew,  announc- 
ing that  he  would  return  the  next  day  to  hear  if  there  was 
any  news,  and  to  bring  further  consolation.  "  Thank 
heaven,  we  are  alone  at  last  !  "  said  Mademoiselle  Gilberte. 
But  they  had  not  much  peace,  for  all  that.  Great  as  had 
been  the  noise  of  Vincent  Favoral's  disaster,  it  had  not  at 
once  reached  all  those  who  had  intrusted  their  savings  to 
him.  All  day  long  the  belated  creditors  kept  arriving ; 
and  the  scenes  of  the  morning  were  renewed  on  a  smaller 
scale.  Then  summonses  began  to  pour  in,  three  or  four 
at  a  time.  Madame  Favoral  was  losing  all  courage. 
"  What  disgrace  !  "  she  groaned.  "  Will  it  always  be  so 
hereafter  ?  "  And  she  exhausted  herself  In  useless  con- 
jectures upon  the  causes  of  the  catastrophe ;  and  such  was 
the  disorder  of  her  mind,  that  she  knew  not  what  to  hope 
nor  what  to  fear,  and  from  one  minute  to  another  she 
wished  for  the  most  contradictory  things.  She  would 
have  been  glad  to  hear  that  her  husband  was  safe  out  of 
the  country,  and  yet  she  would  have  deemed  herself  less 
miserable  had  she  known  that  he  was  hidden  somewhere 
in  Paris.  And  the  same  questions  obstinately  returned 
to  her  lips :  "  Where  is  he  now  ?  What  is  he  doing  ? 
What  is  he  thinking  about  ?  How  can  he  leave  us  with- 
out news  ?  Is  it  possible  that  it  is  a  woman  who  has 
driven  him  into  the  precipice  ?  And  if  so,  who  is  the 
woman  ?  "  Very  dfferent  were  Mademoiselle  Gilberte's 
thoughts.  The  great  calamity  that  had  befallen  her  family 
had  brought  about  the  sudden  realisation  of  her  hopes. 
Her  father's  disaster  had  given  her  an  opportunity  to  test 
the  man  she  loved  ;  and  she  had  found  him  even  superior 
to  all  that  she  could  have  dared  to  dream.  The  name  of 
Favoral  was  forever  disgraced ;  but,  all  the  same,  she  was 
going  to  be  Marius's  wife,  the  Marchioness  de  Tregars. 


J40 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


And,  in  the  candour  of  her  loyal  soul,  she  accused  herself 
of  not  taking  enough  interest  in  her  mother's  grief. 

Where  is  Maxence  ?  asked  Madame  Favoral.  Where 
is  M.  de  Tregars  ?  Why  have  they  told  us  nothing  of 
their  projects  ? 

"They  will,  no  doubt,  be  home  to  dinner,"  replied 
Gilberte. 

So  well  was  she  convinced  of  this,  that  she  had  given 
orders  to  the  servant  to  have  a  somewhat  better  dinner 
than  usual ;  and  her  heart  was  beating  loudly  at  the 
thought  of  being  seated  near  Marius,  between  her  mother 
and  her  brother.  At  about  six  o'clock  the  bell  rang 
violently.  "  There  he  is  !  "  exclaimed  the  young  girl,  ris- 
ing to  her  feet.  But  no ;  it  was  only  the  concierge, 
bringing  up  a  summons  ordering  Madame  Favoral,  under 
penalty  of  the  law,  to  appear  the  next  day,  at  one  o'clock 
precisely,  before  the  inv^estigating  magistrate,  Barban 
d'Avranchel,  at  his  office  in  the  Palais  de  Justice.  The 
poor  woman  very  nearly  fainted.  "  What  can  this  magis- 
trate want  widi  me  ? "  she  asked.  "  It  ought  to  be 
forbidden  to  call  a  wife  to  testify  against  her  husband." 

"  M.  de  Tregars  will  tell  you  what  to  answer,  mamma,'' 
said  Mademoiselle  Gilberte. 

Meantime,  seven  o'clock  struck,  then  eight,  and  still 
neither  Maxence  nor  M.  de  Tregars  had  arrived.  Both 
mother  and  daughter  were  becoming  very  anxious,  when 
at  last,  a  little  before  nine,  they  heard  steps  in  the  passage, 
Marius  de  Tregars  appeared  almost  immediately.  He 
was  very  pale,  and  his  face  bore  the  trace  of  the  crushing 
fatigues  of  the  day,  or  the  cares  which  oppressed  him,  of 
the  reflections  which  had  been  suggested  to  his  mind  by 
the  quarrel  of  which  he  had  nearly  been  the  victim  a  few 
moments  since.    "  Is  not  Maxence  here  ?  "  he  asked  at  once. 

"  We  have  not  seen  him,"  answered  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte. 

He  seemed  so  much  surprised,  that  Madame  Favoral 
was  frightened.  "  What  is  the  matter  now  ? "  she  ex- 
claimed. 

"  Nothing,  madame,"  replied  M.  de  Tregars,  "  nothing 
that  need  alarm  you.  Compelled  about  two  hours  ago  to 
part  from  Maxence,  I  was  to  have  met  him  here.  Since 
he  has  not  yet  come,  he  must  have  been  detained.  I 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


341 


know  where;  and  I  will  ask  your  permission  to  run  and 
join  him." 

He  went  out ;  but  Gilberte  followed  him  into  the  pas- 
sage, and  taking  his  hand,  she  said  :  "  How  kind  of  you  ! 
and  how  can  we  ever  sufficiently  thank  you  ?  " 

He  interrupted  her.  You  owe  me  no  thanks,  my  be- 
loved ;  for  in  what  I  am  doing,  there  is  more  selfishness 
than  you  think.  It  is  my  own  cause,  more  than  yours, 
that  I  am  defending.  Any  way,  everything  is  going  on 
well'^ 

And  without  giving  any  more  explanations,  he  started 
off.  He  had  no  doubt  that  Maxence,  after  leaving  him, 
had  hastened  to  the  Hotel  des  Folies  to  give  Mademoiselle 
Lucienne  an  account  of  the  day's  work.  And  though 
somewhat  annoyed  that  he  had  tarried  so  long,  on  second 
thoughts,  he  was  not  surprised.  It  was,  therefore,  to  the 
Hotel  des  Folies  that  he  was  going.  Now  that  he  had  un- 
masked his  batteries  and  begun  the  struggle,  he  was  not 
sorry  to  meet  Mademoiselle  Lucienne.  In  less  than  five 
minutes  he  had  reached  the  Boulevard  du  Temple.  In 
front  of  the  Fortius'  narrow  corridor  a  dozen  idlers  were 
standing  talking.  M.  de  Tregars  listened  to  their  conver- 
sation as  he  entered. 

It  is  a  frightful  accident,"  said  one,  "  such  a  pretty  girl, 
and  so  young  too  !  " 

"  As  for  me,"  said  another,  "it  is  the  driver  that  I  pity 
the  most ;  for  after  all,  if  that  pretty  miss  was  in  the  car- 
riage, it  was  for  her  own  pleasure  ;  whereas,  the  poor 
coachman  was  only  attending  to  his  busuiess." 

A  confused  presentiment  oppressed  M.  de  Tregars's 
heart.  Addressing  himself  to  one  of  these  worthy  citizens, 
he  asked  :      Have  you  heard  any  particulars  }  " 

"Certainly  I  have,"  replied  the  man  flattered  by  con- 
fidence. "  I  didn't  see  the  accident  with  my  own  eyes  ; 
but  my  wife  saw  it.  It  was  terrible.  The  carriage,  a  mag- 
nificent private  carriage  too,  came  from  the  direction  of 
the  Madeleine.  The  horses  had  run  away  ;  and  already 
there  had  been  an  accident  in  the  Place  du  Chateau  d'Eau, 
where  an  old  woman  had  been  knocked  down.  Suddenly 
over  there,  opposite  the  toy-shop,  which  is  mine,  by  the 
way,  the  wheel  of  the  carriage  caught  the  wheel  of  an 
enormous  waggon,  and  everything  was  upset,  the  coach- 
man was  thrown  off  his  seat,  and  the  young  lady  who  was 


342 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


inside  was  thrown  out ;  a  very  pretty  girl  who  lives  in  this 
hotel." 

Leaving  the  obliging  narrator,  M.  de  Tregars  hastened 
along  the  narrow  corridor  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies.  At  the 
moment  he  reached  the  yard,  he  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  Maxence.  Extremely  pale,  his  head  bare,  with  wild 
eyes,  and  shaking  frightfully,  the  poor  fellow  looked  like  a 
madman.  Ah,  my  friend  !  "  he  exclaimed,  noticing  M.  de 
Tregars,  "  what  a  misfortune  ! 

"  Lucienne  ?  " 
Dead  perhaps.    The  doctor  will  not  answer  for  her  re- 
covery.   I  am  going  to  the  chemist's  to  get  a  prescription 
made  up.'' 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  commissary  of  police,  whose 
kind  protection  had  hitherto  preserved  Mademoiselle  Lu- 
cienne. He  was  coming  out  of  the  little  room  on  the 
ground-floor,  which  the  Fortius  used  as  office,  bedroom, 
and  dining-room.  Recognizing  Marius  de  Tregars,  he 
came  up  to  him,  and  pressed  his  hand  saying:  "Well, 
you  know  1 '' 

"  Yes." 

"It  is  my  fault,  marquis;  for  I  was  fully  warned.  I 
knew  so  well  that  Mademoiselle  Lucienne's  existence  was 
threatened,  I  was  so  fully  expecting  another  attempt  upon 
her  life,  that  whenever  she  went  out  for  a  drive,  it  was  one 
of  my  men  wearing  a  footman's  livery,  who  took  his  seat 
by  the  side  of  the  coachman.  To-day  my  man  was  so 
busy,  that  I  said  to  myself  :  '  Never  mind  for  once  ! '  And 
behold  the  consequences  !  " 

Maxence  listened  with  inexpressible  astonishment,  and 
was  greatly  surprised  to  discover  between  Marius  and  the 
commissary  an  intimacy  which  is  the  result  of  long  inter- 
course, real  esteem,  and  common  hopes. 

"It  is  not  an  accident,  then,"  remarked  M.  de  Tregars. 

"  No." 

"  The  coachman  has  spoken,  no  doubt  ?  " 

"  No,  the  wretch  was  killed  on  the  spot.  But  don't  let 
us  stay  here,"  added  the  commissary  without  waiting  for 
another  question.  "  Whilst  Maxence  runs  to  the  chemist's, 
let  us  go  into  the  Fortius'  room." 

The  husband  was  alone  there,  the  wife  being  at  that 
moment  with  Mademoiselle  Lucienne.  "Do  me  the  fa- 
vour to  go  and  take  a  walk  for  about  fifteen  minutes/^ 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


343 


said  the  commissary  to  him.  "We  wish  to  be  alone." 
Humbly  and  without  a  word,  M.  Fortin  slipped  out. 

It  is  clear,  marquis,  it  is  manifest  that  a  crime  has 
been  committed,'^  resumed  the  commissary  at  once.  Lis- 
ten, and  judge  for  yourself.  I  was  just  rising  from 
dinner,  when  I  was  notified  of  what  was  called  poor  Luci- 
enne's  accident.  Without  even  changing  my  clothes,  I  hast- 
ened here.  The  carriage  was  lying  in  the  street,  broken  to 
pieces.  Two  policemen  were  holding  the  horses,  which 
had  been  stopped.  I  made  inquiries  and  learnt  that  Luci- 
enne,  picked  up  by  Maxence,  had  been  able  to  drag  her- 
self as  far  as  the  hotel,  and  that  the  driver  had  been  taken 
to  the  nearest  chemist's.  Furious  at  my  own  negligence, 
and  tormented  by  vague  suspicions,  it  was  to  the  chemist's 
that  I  went  first.  The  driver  was  lying  in  a  backroom,  on 
a  mattress.  His  skull  having  struck  the  angle  of  the 
curbstone,  was  broken  open  ;  and  he  had  just  breathed  his 
last.  It  was  apparently  the  annihilation  of  the  hope  which 
I  had  of  enlightening  myself  by  questioning  him.  Never- 
theless, I  gave  orders  to  have  him  searched.  No  paper 
was  discovered  upon  him  which  could  establish  his  iden- 
tity ;  but  in  one  of  the  pockets  of  his  trousers,  what  do 
you  think  was  found  ?  Twenty  bank-notes  of  a  hundred 
francs  each,  carefully  wrapped  up  in  a  piece  of  news- 
paper.'^ 

M.  de  Tregars  shuddered.  "  What  a  revelation  !  "  he 
murmured. 

It  was  not  to  the  present  circumstance  that  Marius  ap- 
plied the  word.  But  the  commissary  naturally  mistook 
him.  "  Yes,"  he  went  on,  "  it  was  a  revelation.  To  me 
these  two  thousand  francs  w^ere  worth  a  confession  ;  they 
could  only  be  the  wages  of  a  crime.  So  without  losing  a 
moment,  I  jumped  into  a  cab  and  drove  to  Brion's. 
Everybody  was  greatly  excited,  because  the  horses  had 
just  then  been  brought  back.  I  questioned,  and  from  the 
very  first  answers,  the  correctness  of  my  presumption  was 
demonstrated  to  me.  The  wretch  who  had  just  died  was 
not  one  of  Brion's  coachmen.  This  is  what  had  happened. 
At  two  o'clock  when  the  carriage  ordered  by  M.  Van- 
Klopen  was  ready  to  go  for  Mademoiselle  Lucienne,  they 
had  been  compelled  to  send  for  the  driver  and  the  footman, 
who  had  forgotten  themselves  drinking  in  a  neighbouring 
wine-shop,  with  a  man  who  had  called  to  see  them  in  the 


344 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


morning.  They  were  slightly  under  the  influence  of 
wine,  but  not  enough  to  make  it  imprudent  to  trust  them 
with  horses  ;  and  it  was  even  probable  that  the  fresh  air 
would  sober  them  completely.  They  started  ;  but  they 
did  not  go  very  far,  for  one  of  their  comrades  saw  them 
stop  the  carriage  in  front  of  a  wine-shop,  and  rejoin  the 
same  individual  wiih  whom  they  had  been  drinking  all  the 
morning — " 

And  who  was  no  other  than  the  man  who  is  dead  ?  " 
"  Wait.  Having  obtained  this  information,  I  got  some 
one  to  take  me  to  the  wine-shop,  and  I  asked  for  the 
coachman  and  the  footman  from  Brion's.  They  were  still 
there  ;  and  they  were  shown  to  me  lying  on  the  floor  fast 
asleep  in  a  private  room.  I  tried  to  wake  them  up,  but  in 
vain.  I  had  water  thrown  on  them  freely ;  but  a  whole 
bucketful  had  no  effect,  save  to  make  them  utter  a  few  in- 
articulate groans.  I  at  once  guessed  what  they  had  taken. 
I  sent  for  a  doctor  and  asked  the  landlord  for  explanations. 
It  was  his  wife  and  his  potman  who  answered  me.  They 
told  me  that  about  two  o'clock,  a  man  entered  the  shop 
and  stated  that  he  was  employed  at  Brion's,  and  ordered 
three  glasses  of  wine  for  himself  and  two  comrades,  whom 
he  was  expecting.  A  few  moments  later  a  carriage  stopped 
at  the  door  ;  and  the  driver  and  the  footman  entered. 
They  w^ere  in  a  great  hurry  they  said,  and  only  wished  to 
take  one  glass.  They,  however,  took  three,  one  after 
another  ;  then  they  ordered  a  bottle.  They  vv^ere  evidently 
forgetting  their  horses,  which  they  had  left  in  charge  of  a 
commissionaire.  Soon  the  man  proposed  a  game  of  cards. 
The  others  accepted  and  were  soon  installed  in  the  private 
room,  knocking  on  the  table  for  some  better  wine.  The 
game  must  have  lasted  at  least  twenty  minutes.  At  the  end 
of  that  time,  the  man  who  had  come  in  first  appeared,  look- 
ing very  much  annoyed,  saying  that  it  was  very  unpleasant 
that  his  comrades  were  dead  drunk,  that  they  would  miss  their 
appointment,  and  that  their  master,  who  is  anxious  to  please 
his  customers,  would  certainly  dismiss  them.  Although  ?ie 
had  taken  much,  and  even  more  than  the  others,  he  was  per- 
fectly steady  ;  and  after  reflecting  for  a  moment,  he  said  :  *I 
have  an  idea.  Friends  should  help  each  other,  shouldn't 
they  ?  I  will  put  on  the  coachman's  livery,  and  drive  in 
his  stead.  I  happen  to  know  the  customer  he  was  going 
for.    She  is  a  very  kind  old  lady,  and  I'll  tell  her  a  storj! 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 


345 


to  explain  the  absence  of  the  footman.  Convinced  that 
the  man  was  in  Brion's  employment,  the  landlord's  wife 
had  no  objection  to  offer  to  this  fine  project.  The  villain 
put  on  the  sleeping  coachman's  livery,  got  on  the  box,  and 
drove  off,  after  stating  that  he  would  return  for  his  com- 
rades as  soon  as  he  had  got  through  the  job,  and  that 
doubtless  they  would  be  sober  by  that  time.*' 

M.  de  Tregars  knew  well  enough  the  commissary's 
energy  not  to  be  surprised  at  his  promptness  in  obtaining 
precise  information.  The  latter  continued  :  "  Just  as  I  was 
closing  my  examination,  the  doctor  arrived.  I  showed 
him  the  drunkards ;  and  he  at  once  recognized  that  I  had 
guessed  correctly,  and  that  the  men  had  been  sent  to  sleep 
by  means  of  one  of  those  narcotics  of  which  certain  thieves 
make  use  to  rob  their  victims.  A  potion,  which  he  admin- 
istered to  them  by  forcing  their  teeth  open  with  a  knife, 
brought  them  to  their  senses.  They  opened  their  eyes, 
and  were  soon  in  a  condition  to  reply  to  my  questions. 
They  were  furious  at  the  trick  that  had  been  played  upon 
them  ;  but  they  do  not  know  the  man.  They  swear  they 
saw  him  for  the  first  time  this  very  morning ;  and  they  are 
ignorant  even  of  his  name." 

There  was  no  doubt  possible  after  such  complete  expla- 
nations. The  commissary  had  formed  a  correct  opinion, 
and  he  proved  it.  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  had  not  just 
been  the  victim  of  a  vulgar  accident,  but  of  a  crime  labori- 
ously conceived,  and  executed  with  unheard-of  audacity : 
of  one  of  those  crimes  of  which  too  many  are  committed, 
and  which,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  dispel  suspicion,  and  foil 
all  the  efforts  of  human  justice.  M.  de  Tregars  under- 
stood now  what  had  taken  place,  as  clearly  as  if  he  had 
himself  received  the  confessions  of  the  guilty  parties.  A 
man  had  been  found  to  execute  this  perilous  programme  : 
to  make  the  horses  run  away,  and  then  to  run  into  some 
heavy  wagon.  The  wretch  was  staking  his  life  at  the  game, 
it  being  evident  that  the  ligxit  carriage  must  be  smashed 
to  bits.  But  he  had  probably  relied  upon  his  skill  and 
his  presence  of  mind  to  avoid  the  shock  and  to  jump  off 
safe  and  sound  ;  whilst  Mademoiselle  Lucienne,  thrown 
upon  the  pavement,  would  most  likely  be  killed  on  the  spot. 
The  event  had  deceived  his  expectations,  and  he  had  fallen 
a  victim  to  his  own  rascality  ;  but  his  death  was  a  misfor* 
tune. 


346 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


"  It  is  very  unfortunate/'  resumed  the  commissary,  that 
the  villaia  is  dead ;  for  now  the  thread  which  would  infal- 
hbly  have  led  us  to  the  truth  is  broken  in  our  hands. 
Who  is  it  that  ordered  the  crime,  and  who  paid  for  it  ? 
We  know,  since  we  know  who  benefits  by  the  crime.  But 
that  is  not  sufficient.  Justice  requires  something  more 
than  moral  proofs.  Living,  the  scoundrel  would  have 
spoken.  His  death  insures  the  impunity  of  the  wretches 
who  employed  him.'' 

Perhaps,"  said  M.  de  Tregars.  And  at  the  same  time 
he  withdrew  from  his  pocket,  and  showed  the  commissary, 
the  letter  found  in  Vincent  Favoral's  notebook,  that  letter 
so  obscure  the  day  before,  but  now  so  terribly  clear :  "  I 
cannot  understand  your  negligence.  You  should  get  that 
Van-Klopen  matter  over.    There  is  the  danger." 

The  commissary  of  police  cast  but  a  glance  upon  it,  and, 
replying  to  the  objections  of  his  old  experience  rathei 
more  than  addressing  himself  to  M.  de  Tregars,  he  mur- 
mured :  "  There  can  be  no  doubt  about  it.  It  is  to  the 
crime  committed  to-day  that  these  pressing  recommenda- 
tions relate  :  and,  directed  as  they  are  to  Vincent  Favoral, 
they  attest  his  complicity.  It  was  he  who  had  undertaken 
to  finish  the  Van-Klopen  affair;  in  other  words,  to  get  rid 
of  Lucienne.  It  was  he,  Fd  wager  my  head,  who  treated 
with  the  false  coachman."  He  remained  for  over  a  min- 
ute absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts,  then  he  asked  :  "  But 
who  is  the  author  of  these  recommendations  to  Vincent 
Favoral ;  do  you  know  that,  marquis  ?  " 

They  looked  at  each  other ;  and  the  same  name  rose  to 
their  lips  ;  "  The  Baroness  de  Thaller  !  "  This  name,  how- 
ever, they  did  not  utter. 

The  commissary  drew  near  to  the  gas-burner  which 
lighted  the  Fortius'  room ;  and,  adjusting  his  glasses,  he 
scrutinized  the  note  with  the  most  minute  attention,  study- 
ing the  grain  and  the  transparency  of  the  paper,  the  ink, 
and  the  handwriting.  "  This  note,"  declared  he  at  last, 
"  is  not  sufficient  to  constitute  a  proof  against  its  author : 
I  mean  an  evident,  material  proof,  such  as  we  require  to 
obtain  an  order  to  arrest.  It  is  written  with  the  left  hand, 
with  common  ink,  on  ordinary  foolscap  paper,  such  as  is 
found  everywhere.  Now  all  left-hand  writtings  look  alike 
Draw  your  own  conclusions." 

But  M.  de  Tregars  did  not  give  it  up  yet.    "  Wait  a 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MOAEV. 


347 


moment,"  he  interrupted.  And  briefly,  though  with  the 
utmost  exactness,  he  related  his  visit  to  the  De  Thaller 
mansion,  his  conversation  with  Mademoiselle  Cesarine, 
then  with  the  baroness,  and  finally  with  the  baron  himself. 
He  described  in  the  most  graphic  manner  the  scene  which 
had  taken  place  in  the  principal  drawing-room  between 
Madame  de  Thaller  and  a  more  than  suspicious-looking 
man,  that  scene  which  had  been  revealed  to  him  in  its 
minutest  details  by  the  looking-glass.  Its  meaning  was 
now  as  clear  as  day.  This  suspicious-looking  man  had 
been  one  of  the  agents  in  arranging  the  intended  murder ; 
hence  the  baroness's  agitation  when  she  received  his  card, 
and  her  haste  to  join  him.  If  she  started  when  he  first 
spoke  to  her,  it  was  because  he  was  telling  her  of  the 
successful  execution  of  the  crime.  If  she  afterwards  made 
a  gesture  of  joy,  it  was  because  he  had  just  informed  her 
that  the  coachman  had  been  killed  at  the  same  time,  and 
that  she  found  herself  thus  rid  of  a  dangerous  accomplice. 

The  commissary  of  police  nodded  his  head.  "  All  this 
is  quite  probable,"  he  murmured  ;  "  but  that  is  all." 

Again  M.  de  Tregars  interrupted  him,  "  I  have  not 
done  yet,"  he  said.  And  he  told  how  he  had  been  sud- 
denly and  brutally  insulted  by  an  unknown  man  in  a  res- 
taurant ;  how  he  had  seized  hold  of  the  abject  scoundrel, 
and  taken  out  of  his  pocket  a  letter,  which  left  no  doubt 
as  to  the  nature  of  his  intentions. 

"  The  letter  !  "  exclaimed  the  commissary  with  spark- 
ling eyes  ;  "  show  me  the  letter  !  "  And,  as  soon  as  he 
had  looked  over  it,  he  added  :  "  Ah  !  This  time,  I  think 
that  we  have  something  tangible.  '  A  troublesome  gentle- 
man to  keep  quiet.'  The  Marquis  de  Tregars,  of  course, 
who  is  on  the  right  track.  '  It  will  be  for  you  the  matter 
of  a  sword-thrust.'  Naturally,  dead  men  tell  no  tales. 
*  And  for  us  the  occasion  to  share  a  pretty  large  amount.' 
An  honest  trade  indeed  !  "  The  good  man  was  rubbing 
his  hands  together  with  all  his  might.  "  At  last  we  have 
a  positive  fact,"  he  continued,  "  a  foundation  upon  which 
to  base  our  accusations.  Don't  be  uneasy.  This  letter  is 
going  to  place  in  our  hands  the  scoundrel  who  assaulted 
you  ;  he  will  make  known  the  go-between,  who  himself 
will  not  fail  to  surrender  the  Baroness  de  Thaller.  Lu- 
cienne  will  be  avenged !  If  we  could  only  now  lay  our 
hands  on  Vincent  Favoral !    But  we'll  find  him  yet.  I 


348 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


set  two  fellows  after  him  this  afternoon,  who  have  a  su- 
perior scent,  and  understand  their  business.'^ 

He  was  here  interrupted  by  Maxence,  who  was  return- 
ing all  out  of  breath,  holding  in  his  hand  the  medicines 
which  he  had  gone  after.  I  thought  the  chemist  would 
never  have  finished,''  he  said.  And  regretting  to  have 
remained  away  so  long,  and  feeling  uneasy,  he  prepared 
to  return  upstairs.  "  Don't  you  wish  to  see  Lucienne  " 
he  added,  addressing  himself  m.ore  to  M.  de  Tregars  than 
to  the  commissary.  For  an  answer,  they  followed  him  at 
once. 

A  cheerless-looking  place  was  Mademoiselle  Lucienne's 
room,  without  other  furniture  than  a  narrow  iron  bedstead, 
a  dilapidated  bureau,  four  straw-bottomed  chairs,  and  a 
small  table.  Over  the  bed,  and  at  the  windows,  were 
white  calico  curtains,  with  an  edging  that  had  once  been 
blue,  but  which  had  become  yellow  from  repeated  wash- 
ings. Often  Maxence  had  begged  his  friend  to  take  a  more 
comfortable  lodging,  and  always  she  had  refused.  "  I 
must  economize,"  she  would  say.  This  room  does  well 
enough  for  me ;  and,  besides,  I  am  accustomed  to  it." 
When  M.  de  Tregars  and  the  commissary  entered,  the 
estimable  hostess  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies  was  kneeling  in 
front  of  the  fire,  preparing  some  ptisan.  Hearing  the 
footsteps,  she  got  up,  and,  placing  a  finger  upon  her  lips, 
she  said  :  "  Hush  !    Be  careful  not  to  wake  her  !  " 

The  precaution  was  needless.  "  I  am  not  asleep,"  said 
Mademoiselle  Lucienne  in  a  feeble  voice.  "Who  is 
there  ?  " 

"  I,"  replied  Maxence,  advancing  towards  the  bed. 

It  was  only  necessary  to  see  the  poor  girl  in  order  to 
understand  Maxence's  frightful  anxiety.  She  was  whiter 
than  the  sheet ;  and  fever,  that  horrible  fever  which  follows 
severe  wounds,  gave  a  sinister  lustre  to  her  eyes.  "  But 
you  are  not  alone,"  she  resumed. 

"  I  am  with  him,  my  child,"  said  the  commissary.  "  I 
come  to  beg  your  pardon  for  having  so  badly  protected 
you." 

She  shook  her  head  with  a  sad  and  gentle  motion.  "  It 
was  myself  who  lacked  prudence,"  she  interrupted;  "for 
to-day,  while  out,  I  thought  I  noticed  something  wrong ; 
but  it  seemed  so  foolish  to  be  afraid  !  If  it  had  not  hap- 
pened to-day,  it  would  have  happened  some  other  day. 


OTHER  PEOPLKS  MONEY. 


349 


The  villains  who  have  been  pursuing  me  for  years  must  be 
satisfied  now.    They  will  soon  be  rid  of  me.'^ 

Lucienne/'  murmured  Maxence  in  a  sorrowful  tone. 

M.  de  Tregars  now  stepped  forward.  ^'  You  Vvdll  live, 
mademoiselle,"  he  said,  in  a  grave  voice.  "  You  will  live 
to  learn  to  love  life.''  And  as  she  looked  at  him  in  sur- 
prise,   You  do  not  know  me,''  he  added. 

"  You,"  she  said  timidly,  and  as  if  doubting  the  reality," 

the  Marquis  de  Tregars  !  " 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle,  your  brother." 

Had  he  had  the  control  of  events,  Marius  de  Tregars 
would  probably  not  have  been  in  such  haste  to  reveal  this 
fact.  But  how  could  he  ignore  his  feelings  in  presence  of 
this  poor  girl  who  was,  perhaps,  about  to  die,  a  sacri- 
fice to  the  terrors  and  the  covetousness  of  the  wretched 
being  who  was  her  mother, — to  die  at  twenty,  victim  of 
the  basest  and  most  odious  of  crimes  How  could  he 
help  feeling  an  intense  pity  at  the  sight  of  this  unfortunate 
young  woman  who  had  endured  everything  that  a  human 
being  can  suffer,  whose  life  had  been  nothing  but  a  long 
and  painful  struggle,  whose  courage  had  risen  above  all  the 
woes  of  adversity,  and  who  had  been  able  to  pass  without 
a  stain  through  the  mud  and  mire  of  Paris  ?  Besides, 
Marius  was  not  one  of  those  men  who  mistrust  their  first 
impulse,  who  manifest  their  emotion  only  for  a  purpose, 
who  reflect  and  calculate  before  giving  themselves  up  to 
the  inspirations  of  their  heart.  Lucienne  was  the  Marquis 
de  Tregars's  daughter,  of  that  he  was  absolutely  certain. 
He  knew  that  the  same  blood  flowed  in  his  veins  and  in 
hers  ;  and  he  told  her  so.  He  told  her  so,  above  all,  be- 
cause he  believed  her  in  danger ;  and  he  wished,  were 
she  to  die,  that  she  should  have  had,  at  least,  that  supreme 
joy. 

Poor  Lucienne  !  Never  had  she  dared  to  dream  of 
such  happiness.  All  her  blood  rushed  to  her  cheeks  ;  and, 
in  a  voice  vibrating  with  the  most  intense  emotion,  she 
exclaimed  :  "  Ah  !  now,  yes,  I  would  like  to  live." 

The  commissary  of  police  also  felt  moved.  "  Do  not 
be  alarmed,  my  child,"  he  said  in  his  kindest  tone.  "  Be- 
fore two  weeks  are  over  you  will  be  up  again.  M.  de 
Tregars  is  a  famous  doctor." 

In  the  mean  time,  she  had  attempted  to  raise  herself  on 


350 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


her  pillov/  ;  and  that  simple  effort  had  wrung  a  cry  of  an* 
guish  from  her.      Oh  dear  !    How  I  suffer  ! 

"  That's  because  you  won't  keep  still,  my  darling/*  said 
Madame  Fortin  in  a  tone  of  gentle  scolding.  "  Have  you 
forgotten  that  the  doctor  expressly  forbade  you  to 
move  1  " 

Then  drawing  the  commissary,  Maxence,  and  M.  de 
Tregars  aside,  she  explained  to  them  how  imprudent  it  was 
to  disturb  Mademoiselle  Lucienne's  rest.  She  was  very 
ill,  affirmed  the  worthy  hostess ;  and  her  advice  was,  that 
they  should  send  for  a  nurse  as  soon  as  possible.  She 
would  have  been  extremely  happy,  of  course,  to  spend  the 
night  by  the  side  of  her  dear  lodger ;  but,  unfortunately, 
she  could  not  think  of  it,  the  hotel  requiring  all  her  time 
and  attention.  Fortunately,  however,  she  knew  in  the 
neighbourhood  a  widow,  a  very  worthy  woman,  and  with- 
out her  equal  in  nursing  the  sick.  With  an  anxious  and 
beseeching  look,  Maxence  consulted  M.  de  Tregars.  In 
his  eyes  could  be  read  the  proposition  that  was  burning 
upon  his  lips  :  "  Shall  I  not  go  for  Gilberte  ? 

But  that  proposition  he  had  no  time  to  express.  Though 
they  had  been  speaking  very  low.  Mademoiselle  Lucienne 
had  heard.  "  I  have  a  friend,"  she  said,  who  would  cer- 
tainly be  willing  to  sit  up  with  me." 

What  friend  ?  "  inquired  the  commissary  of  police. 

"  You  know  her  very  well,  sir.  It  is  that  poor  girl  who 
received  me  at  her  home  at  the  Batignolles  when  I  left  the 
hospital ;  who  came  to  my  assistance  during  the  Commune  ; 
and  whom  you  helped  to  get  released  from  the  Versailles 
prison." 

"  Do  you  know  then  what  has  become  of  her? " 

"  Only  since  yesterday,  when  I  received  a  letter  from 
her,  a  very  friendly  letter.  She  writes  that  she  has  found 
money  to  set  up  a  dressmaking  establishment,  and  that  she 
is  relying  upon  me  to  be  her  forewoman.  She  is  going  to 
commence  business  in  the  Rue  St.  Lazare ;  but,  in  the 
meantime,  she  is  stopping  in  the  Rue  du  Cirque," 

M.  de  Tregars  and  Maxence  started  slightly.  "  What 
is  your  friend's  name  ?  "  they  inquired  at  once. 

"  Zelie  Cadelle." 

Not  being  aware  of  the  particulars  of  the  two  young  men's 
visit  to  the  Rue  du  Cirque,  the  commissary  of  police  could 
not  understand  the  cause  of  their  agitation.    "  I  think,"  he 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


said,  "  that  it  would  hardly  be  proper  now  to  send  for  that 
girl.'' 

'*It  is  to  her  alone,  on  the  contrary,  that  we  must  resort," 
interrupted  M.  de  Tregars.  And,  as  he  had  good  reasons 
to  mistrust  Madame  Fortin,  he  led  the  commissary  outside 
the  room,  on  to  the  landing ;  and  there,  in  a  few  words, 
explained  to  him  that  this  Zelie  was  precisely  the  same 
woman  whom  they  had  found  in  the  Rue  du  Cirque,  in  that 
sumptuous  mansion  where  Vincent  Favoral,  under  the  sim- 
ple name  of  Vincent,  had  been  living,  according  to  the 
neighbours,  in  such  a  princely  style. 

The  commissary  of  police  was  astounded.  Why  had  he 
not  known  all  this  sooner  ?  Better  late  than  never,  how- 
ever. Ah !  you  are  right,  Marquis,  a  hundred  times 
right !  "  he  declared.  This  girl  must  evidently  know 
Vincent  Favoral's  secret,  the  key  of  the  enigma  that  we  are 
vainly  trying  to  solve.  What  she  would  not  tell  to  you, 
a  stranger,  she  will  tell  to  Lucienne,  her  friend."  Max- 
ence  offered  to  go  himself  for  Zelie  Cadelle. 

"  No,"  answered  Marius.  If  she  should  happen  to 
know  you,  she  would  suspect  something,  and  would  refuse 
to  come." 

It  was,  therefore,  M.  Fortin  who  was  despatched  to  the 
Rue  du  Cirque,  and  who  went  off  grumbling,  though  he 
had  received  five  francs  to  take  a  cab,  and  five  francs  for 
his  trouble. 

"  And  now,"  said  the  commissary  of  police  to  Maxence, 
"  we  must  both  of  us  get  out  of  the  way.  I,  because  the 
fact  of  my  being  a  commissary  would  frighten  Madame 
Cadelle  ;  you,  because,  being  Vincent  Favoral's  son,  your 
presence  would  certainly  prove  embarrassing  to  hen" 

And  so  they  went  out ;  but  M.  de  Tregars  did  not  long 
remain  alone  with  Mademoiselle  Lucienne.  M.  Fortin  had 
had  the  delicacy  not  to  tarry  on  the  way.  Eleven  o'clock 
siruch  as  Zelie  Cadelle  rushed  like  a  whirlwind  into  her 
friend's  room.  Such  had  been  her  haste,  that  she  had 
given  no  thought  whatever  /  >  her  dress.  She  \.^:A  stuck 
upon  her  uncombed  hair  thf  first  bonnet  she  could  lay  her 
hands  upon,  and  had  thrown  an  old  shawl  over  the  wrapper 
in  which  she  had  received  Marius  in  the  afternoon. 

"  What,  my  poor  Lucienne  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Are  you 
so  ill  as  all  that  ?  "  But  she  stopped  short  as  she  recog- 
nized M.  de  Tregars ;  and,  in  a  suspicious  tone,  she  said ; 


352 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


What  a  singular  meeting  !      Marius  bowed.    "  You  know 
Lucienne  ? " 

What  she  meant  by  that  he  understood  perfectly.  "  Lu-  * 
cienne  is  my  sister,  madame,"  he  said  coldly. 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders.    "  What  humbug  !  " 
It's  the  truth/'  affirmed  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  ;  "  and 
you  know  that  I  never  lie." 

Madame  Zelie  was  dumbfounded.    "  If  you  say  so/'  she 
muttered.    "  But  no  matter  ;  it's  very  queer." 

"  And,  what's  more,"  interrupted  M.  de  Tregars,  it  is 
because  Lucienne  is  my  sister  that  you  see  her  there  lying 
upon  that  bed.    They  attempted  to  murder  her  to-day  !  " 

"Oh!" 

It  was  her  mother  who  tried  to  get  rid  of  her,  so  as  to 
possess  herself  of  the  fortune  which  my  father  had  left  his 
daughter;  and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the 
snare  was  contrived  by  Vincent  Favoral." 

Madame  Zelie  did  not  understand  very  well ;  but,  when 
Marius  and  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  had  informed  her  of 
all  that  it  was  useful  for  her  to  know,  she  exclaimed  : 

Why,  what  a  horrible  rascal  that  old  Vincent  must  be  !  " 
And,  as  M.  de  Tregars  said  nothing,  she  continued : 
"  This  afternoon  I  didn't  tell  you  any  lies  ;  but  I  didn't  tell 
you  everything,  either."  She  stopped;  but,  after  a  mo- 
ment of  deliberation,  "  Well,  so  much  the  worse  for  old 
Vincent,"  she  added.  "Ah!  he  tried  to  have  Lucienne 
killed,  did  he  ?  Well,  then,  I  am  going  to  tell  everything  I 
know.  First  of  all,  he  wasn't  anything  to  me.  It  isn't 
very  flattering ;  but  it  is  so.  He  has  never  kissed  so  much 
as  the  tip  of  my  finger.  He  used  to  say  that  he  loved  me, 
but  that  he  respected  me  still  more,  because  I  looked  so 
much  like  a  daughter  he  had  lost.  The  old  humbug  ! 
And  I  believed  him  too  !  I  did,  upon  my  word,  at  least 
in  the  beginning.  But  I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  I  look.  I 
found  out  very  soon  that  he  was  making  fun  of  me ;  and 
that  he  was  only  using  me  as  a  blind  to  keep  suspicion 
away  from  another  woman." 

"  From  what  woman  ?  " 

"Ah!  that's  just  what  I  don't  know!  All  I  know  is 
that  she  is  married,  that  he  is  crazy  about  her,  and  that 
they  are  to  run  away  together." 

"  Has  he  not  gone,  then  ?  " 

Madame  Cadelle's  face  had  assumed  a  somewhat  anx- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


353 


ious  expression,  and  over  a  minute  she  seemed  to  hesitate. 

Do  you  know/'  she  said  at  last,  "  that  my  answer  is  go- 
ing to  cost  a  lot  ?  They  have  promised  me  a  pile  of  money ; 
but  I  haven't  got  it  yet.  And  if  I  split,  good-bye  1  I  shan't 
have  anything,"  M.  de  Tregars  was  opening  his  lips,  to 
tell  her  that  she  might  rest  easy  on  that  score  ;  but  she 
interrupted  him.  "  Well,  no,"  she  said :  "  old  Vincent 
hasn't  gone.  He  got  up  a  comedy,  so  he  told  me,  to  throw 
the  lady's  husband  off  the  track.  He  sent  off  a  whole  lot 
of  luggage  by  the  railway ;  but  he  remained  in  Paris." 

And  do  you  know  where  he  is  hiding }  " 
"  In  the  Rue  St.  Lazare,  of  course :  in  the  apartment 
that  I  hired  a  fortnight  ago." 

Would  you  consent  to  take  me  there  ?  "  asked  M.  de 
Tregars  in  a  voice  trembling  with  the  excitment  of  almost 
certain  success. 

Whenever  you  like — to  morrow." 


vni. 

There  is  nothing  more  to  keep  me  at  the  Hotel  des 
Folies,"  said  the  commissary  of  police  to  Maxence  as  they 
left  Mademoiselle  Lucienne's  room.  Everything  possible 
will  be  done,  and  well  done,  by  M.  de  Tregars.  There- 
fore I  am  going  back  to  my  office  ;  and  I  am  going  to  take 
you  with  me.  I  have  a  great  deal  to  do  ;  and  you  can  help 
me."  That  was  not  exactly  true  ;  but  he  feared  some  im- 
prudence on  the  part  of  Maxence,  which  might  compro- 
mise the  success  of  M.  de  Tregars's  mission.  He  was  try- 
ing to  think  of  everything,  to  leave  as  little  as  possible  to 
chance,  like  a  man  who  has  seen  the  best  combined  plans 
fail  for  want  of  a  trifling  precaution. 

As  he  had  been  away  the  whole  evening,  four  or  five 
persons  were  waiting  for  him  at  his  ofBce  on  matters  of 
current  business.  He  despatched  them  in  less  than  no 
time ;  after  which,  addressing  himself  to  an  agent  on  duty, 
"  This  evening,"  he  said,  "  at  about  nine  o'clock,  there  was 
a  row  in  a  restaurant  on  the  Boulevards.  A  person  tried 
to  pick  a  quarrel  with  another.  You  will  proceed  at  once 
to  that  restaurant ;  you  will  get  the  particulars  of  what 
took  place ;  and  you  will  ascertain  exacty  who  this  man 
is,  his  name,  his  profession,  and  his  place  of  residence." 

23 


354 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


Can  I  have  a  description  of  him  ? "  inquired  the  agent 
like  a  person  accustomed  to  such  errands. 

"  Yes.  He  is  a  man  past  middle  age,  military  bearing, 
heavy,  moustache,  wearing  hfs  hat  on  the  side  of  his  head," 

Yes,  I  see  ;  one  of  your  regular  fighting  fellows.'' 

Very  well.  Go  then.  I  shall  not  retire  before  your 
return.  Ah,  I  forgot ;  find  out  what  was  thought  to-night 
at  the  little  Bourse  about  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  affair, 
and  what  was  said  of  the  arrest  of  one  Saint-Pavin,  editor 
of  the  *  Financial  Pilot,'  and  of  a  banker  named  Jottras.' 

Can  I  take  a  cab  ?  " 

Yes." 

The  agent  started  ;  and  he  was  not  fairly  out  of  the 
house,  when  the  commissary,  opening  a  door  which  gave 
access  into  a  small  study,  called,     Felix  !  " 

It  was  his  secretary,  a  man  of  about  thirty,  fair,  with  a 
gentle  and  timid  countenance,  having  with  his  long  frock- 
coat,  somewhat  the  appearance  of  a  theological  student 
He  appeared  immediately.    "  Did  you  call  me,  sir  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Felix,"  replied  the  commissary,  "  I  have  seen 
you,  sometimes,  imitate  very  nicely  all  sorts  of  hand-writ- 
ings." 

The  secretary  blushed  very  much,  no  doubt  on  account 
of  Maxence,  who  was  sitting  by  the  side  of  his  employer. 
He  was  a  very  honest  fellow  ;  but  there  are  certain  little 
talents  of  which  people  do  not  like  to  boast ;  and  the  talent 
of  imitating  the  writing  of  others  is  of  the  number,  for  the 
reason  that  it  at  once  fatally  suggests  the  idea  of  forgery. 

It  was  only  for  fun  that  I  used  to  do  that,  sir,"  he  stam- 
mered. 

Would  you  be  here  if  it  had  been  otherwise  ?  "  said  the 
commissary.  ^'  Only  this  time  it  is  not  for  fun,  but  to  do 
me  a  favour,  that  I  wish  you  to  try  again."  And  withdraw- 
ing from  his  pocket  the  letter  M.  de  Tregars  had  taken 
from  the  man  in  the  restaurant,  he  added  :  Examine 
chis  writing,  and  see  whether  you  feel  capable  of  imitating 
it  tolerably  well." 

Spreading  the  letter  out  under  the  full  light  of  the  lamp, 
the  secretary  spent  at  least  two  minutes  examining  it  with 
the  minute  attention  of  an  expert.  And  at  the  same  time 
he  muttered  :  Not  at  all  convenient,  this.  Hard  waiting 
to  imitate.    Not  a  silent  feature,  not  a  characteristic  sign! 


■i 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


355 


Nothing  which  strikes  the  eye,  or  attracts  attention.  It 
must  be  some  old  lawyer's  clerk  who  wrote  this." 

In  spite  of  his  anxiety  of  mind,  the  commissary  could 
not  help  smiling :  "  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  you  had 
guessed  right,"  he  said. 

"  At  any  rate,"  declared  Felix,  thus  encouraged,  I  will 
try."  He  took  a  pen,  and  after  trying  several  times. 
"  How  is  this  ?  "  he  asked,  holding  out  a  sheet  of  paper. 

The  commissary  carefully  compared  the  original  with 
the  copy.  It  is  not  perfect,"  he  murmured  ;  "  but  at 
night-time  and  with  the  imagination  excited  by  a  great 
peril — Besides,  we  must  risk  something." 

"  If  I  had  a  few  hours  to  practise  !  " 

"  But  you  have  not.  Come,  take  up  your  pen  and  write 
as  well  as  you  can,  in  that  same  hand,  what  I  am  going  to 
tell  you."  And  after  a  moment's  thought,  he  dictated  as 
follows :  "  All  goes  well,  T.  drawn  into  a  quarrel,  is  to 
fight  in  the  morning  with  swords.  But  our  man,  whom  I 
cannot  leave  refuses  to  go  further,  unless  he  is  paid  two 
thousand  francs  before  the  duel.  I  have  not  the  amount. 
Please  hand  it  to  the  bearer  who  has  orders  to  wait  for 
you."  The  commissary,  leaning  over  his  secretary's  shoul- 
der was  following  his  hand,  and  the  last  word  being  written. 
"  Perfect  !  "  be  exclaimed.  "  Now^,  quick,  the  address  ; 
Baroness  de  Thaller,  Rue  de  la  Pepiniere." 

There  are  professions  which  extinguish  all  curiosity  in 
those  who  exercise  them.  It  w^as  with  the  most  complete 
indifference,  and  without  asking  a  question,  that  the  sec- 
retary did  what  had  been  requested  of  him. 

Now,  my  dear  Felix,"  resumed  the  commissary,  "you 
wdll  please  make  .yourself  up  as  near  as  possible  like  a  res- 
taurant-waiter, and  take  this  letter  to  its  address." 

"  At  this  hour  !  " 

"Yes.  The  Baroness  de  Thaller  is  at  a  ball.  You  wdll 
tell  the  servants  that  you  are  bringing  her  an  answer  con- 
cerning an  important  matter.  They  know  nothing  about 
it ;  but  they  will  allow  you  to  wait  for  their  mistress  in  the 
concierge's  lodge.  As  soon  as  she  comes  in  you  will  hand 
her  the  letter,  stating  that  two  gentleman  who  are  taking 
supper  in  your  restaurant  are  waiting  for  the  answer.  It 
may  be  that  she  will  exclaim  that  you  are  a  rogue,  that  she 
does  not  know  what  it  means ;  in  that  case  we  shall  have 
been  anticipated,  and  you  must  get  away  as  fast  as  you  can. 


356 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


But  the  chances  are,  that  she  will  give  you  the  two  thoU' 
sand  francs  ;  and  then  you  must  so  manage,  that  she  shall 
be  plainly  seen  to  give  them  you.    Is  it  all  understood  ?  " 
"  Perfectly." 

"Be  quick,  then,  and  do  not  lose  a  minute.  I  shall 
wait  for  you." 

Away  from  Mademoiselle  Lucienne,  Maxence  had  grad- 
ually been  recalled  to  the  strangeness  of  the  situation,- 
and  it  was  with  mingled  feelings  of  curiosity  and  surprise 
that  he  observed  the  commissary  bustling  about.  The 
worthy  man  had  found  again  all  the  activity  of  his  youth, 
together  with  that  fever  of  hope  and  that  impatience  of 
success,  wdiich  usually  disappear  as  one  grows  older.  He 
was  going  over  in  his  mind  the  whole  of  the  case  again — 
his  first  meeting  with  Mademoiselle  Lucienne,  the  various 
attempts  upon  her  life,  and  he  had  just  taken  out  of  a 
drawer  the  letter  of  information  which  he  had  intrusted  to 
him,  in  order  to  compare  the  writing  with  that  of  the 
letter  M.  de  Tregars  had  taken  from  his  adversary,  when 
Marius  hurried  in,  all  out  of  breath. 

"  Zelie  has  spoken  !  he  exclaimed.  And  at  once 
turning  to  Maxence,  "  You,  my  dear  friend,"  he  added, 
"  you  must  run  to  the  Hotel  des  Folies." 

"  Is  Lucienne  worse  ?  " 

"  No.  Lucienne  is  getting  on  well  enough.  Zelie  has 
spoken  ;  but  there  is  no  certainty,  that  after  due  reflection 
she  will  not  repent,  and  go  and  give  the  alarm.  You 
must  return,  therefore,  and  not  lose  sight  of  her  until  I 
call  for  her  in  the  morning.  If  she  wishes  to  go  out  you 
must  prevent  her." 

The  commissary  understood  the  importance  of  the 
precaution.  "  You  must  prevent  her,"  he  added,  "  even 
by  force :  and  I  authorize  you,  if  need  be,  to  call  the 
agent  whom  I  have  placed  on  duty  outside  the  Hotel  des 
Folies,  and  whom  I  will  warn  immediately." 

Maxence  started  off  at  a  run. 

"  Poor  fellow  1  "  murmured  Marius,  "  I  know  wher^ 
your  father  is.    What  are  we  going  to  learn  now  ? " 

He  had  scarcely  had  time  to  communicate  the  informa- 
tion he  had  received  from  Madame  Cadelle,  when  the  first 
of  the  commissary's  emissaries  made  his  appearance. 
"The  commission  is  executed,"  he  said,  in  the  confident 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


tone  of  a  man  who  thinks  he  has  successfully  accomplished 
a  difficult  task. 

"  You  know  the  name  of  the  individual  who  sought  a 
quarrel  with  M.  de  Tregars  ? "  asked  the  commissary. 

"  His  name  is  Corvi.  He  is  well  known  at  all  the 
tables  d'hote  where  there  are  women,  and  where  they  have 
a  healthy  little  game  after  dinner.  I  know  him  well  too. 
He  is  a  bad  fellow  who  passes  himself  off  as  a  former  su- 
perior officer  in  the  Italian  army." 

"  His  address  ?  " 

"  He  lives  in  the  Rue  de  la  Michodiere,  in  a  house  oc- 
cupied by  a  person  who  lets  out  furnished  rooms.  I  went 
there.  The  concierge  told  me  that  my  man  had  just  gone 
out  with  an  ill-looking  individual,  and  that  they  would 
probably  be  found  in  a  little  cafe  at  the  corner  of  the 
street.  I  hastened  there,  and  sure  enough,  I  found  the 
two  fellows  drinking  beer." 

"  Won't  they  give  us  the  slip  t  " 

"  No  danger  of  that ;  I  have  got  them  safe." 

"  How  so  ?  " 

"  Oh,  an  idea  of  mine.  I  just  thought,  *  Suppose  they 
go  off  t '  And  I  at  oift  went  and  warned  some  policeman, 
and  returned  and  stationed  myself  near  the  cafe.  It  was 
just  closing-time.  My  two  fellows  came  out ;  I  picked  a 
quarrel  with  them ;  and  now  they  are  in  the  station-house 
well  cared  f or. ' 

The  commissary  knit  his  brows.  "  That's  almost  too 
much  zeal,"  he  murmured.  "Well,  what's  done  is  done. 
Did  you  make  any  inquiries  about  the  Saint-Pavin  and 
Jottras  matter  ?  " 

"  I  had  no  time,  it  was  too  late.  You  forget  perhaps, 
sir,  that  it  is  now  past  two  o'clock." 

As  he  finished  speaking,  the  secretary  who  had  been 
sent  to  the  Rue  de  la  Pepiniere  came  in. 

Well  ?  "  inquired  the  commissary,  not  without  evident 
anxiety. 

"  I  waited  for  Madame  de  Thaller  over  an  hour,"  he 
said.  "  When  she  came  home  I  gave  her  the  letter.  She 
read  it ;  and  in  presence  of  a  number  of  her  servants,  she 
handed  me  these  two  thousand  francs." 

At  the  sight  of  the  bank-notes  the  commissary  jumped 
to  his  feet.  "  Now  we  have  it !  "  he  exclaimed.  Her© 
is  the  proof  that  v/e  wanted." 


35S 


OrnER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


IX. 

It  was  past  four  o'clock  when  M.  de  Tregars  was  at 
last  able  to  return  home.  He  had  minutely,  and  at  length, 
arranged  everything  with  the  commissary ;  he  had  en- 
deavoured to  anticipate  every  eventuality.  His  line  of 
conduct  was  perfectly  well  marked  out,  and  he  carried 
with  him  the  certainty  that  on  the  day  which  was  about  to 
dawn  the  strange  game  that  he  was  playing  would  be 
finally  won  or  lost. 

"  At  last,  here  you  are,  sir  !  exclaimed  his  faithful  ser- 
vant when  he  reached  home. 

It  was  doubtless  anxiety  that  had  kept  the  old  man  up 
all  night ;  but  so  absorbed  was  Marius's  mind,  that  he 
scarcely  noticed  the  fact.  "  Did  any  one  call  in  my  ab- 
sence 1 he  asked. 

"  Yes  sir.  A  gentleman  called  during  the  evening,  M. 
Costeclar,  who  appeared  very  much  vexed  not  to  find  you 
in.  He  stated  that  he  came  on  a  very  important  matter 
that  you  would  know  all  about ;  and  he  requested  me  to 
ask  you  to  wait  for  him  to-morrow,  that  is  to-day,  until 
twelve  o'clock." 

Was  M.  Costeclar  sent  by  M.  de  Thaller .?  Had  the 
manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  changed  his  mind  .J* 
and  had  he  decided  to  accept  the  conditions  which  he  had 
at  first  rejected  ?  In  that  case  it  was  too  late.  It  was  no 
longer  in  the  power  of  any  human  being  to  suspend  the 
action  of  justice.  Without  giving  any  further  thought  to 
the  visit,  M.  de  Tregars  said  :  "  I  am  worn  out  with 
fatigue,  and  I  am  going  to  lie  down.  You  roust  call  me  at 
eight  o'clock  precisely." 

But  it  was  in  vain  that  he  tried  to  find  a  short  respite 
in  sleep.  For  forty-eight  hours  his  mind  had  been  taxed 
beyond  measure,  his  nerves  had  been  wTought  up  to  an 
almost  intolerable  degree  of  exaltation.  As  soon  as  he 
closed  his  eyes  it  was  with  a  merciless  precision  that  his 
imagination  presented  to  him  all  the  events  which  had 
taken  place  since  that  afternoon  in  the  Place  Royale  when 
he  had  ventured  to  declare  his  love  to  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte.  Who  could  have  told  him  then  that  he  would 
engage  in  that  struggle,  the  issue  of  which  must  certainly 
be  some  abominable  scandal  in  which  his  name  would  be 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


359 


involved  ?  Who  could  have  told  him,  that  gradually  and 
by  the  very  force  of  circumstances,  he  would  be  led  to 
overcome  his  repugnance,  and  to  rival  the  ruses  and  the 
tortuous  combinations  of  the  wretches  he  was  trying  to 
reach  ?  But  he  was  not  of  those  who  once  engaged,  regret, 
hesitate,  and  draw  back.  His  conscience  reproached  him 
with  nothing.  It  w^as  for  justice  and  right  that  he  was 
batthng;  and  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  was  the  prize  that 
would  reward  him.  As  eight  o'clock  struck  his  servant 
came  in. 

"Run  for  a  cab,"  he  said,  "I  shall  be  ready  in  a 
moment.'^ 

He  was  ready,  in  fact  when  the  old  servant  returned  ; 
and  as  he  had  in  his  pocket  some  of  those  arguments 
that  lend  wdngs  to  worst  cab-horses,  in  less  than  ten 
minutes  he  had  reached  the  Hotel  des  Folies.  "  How  is 
Mademoiselle  Lucienne  ?  "  he  inquired  first  of  all  of  the 
w^orthy  hostess. 

"  The  poor  dear  child  is  much  better,"  answered  Mad- 
ame Fortin  ;  "and  the  doctor,  who  has  just  left  now  feels 
sure  of  her  recovery.    But  there  is  a  row  up  there." 

"  A  row  ?  " 

"  Yes.  That  lady  whom  my  husband  went  after  last 
night  insists  upon  going  out,  and  M.  Maxence  won't  let 
her  ;  so  that  they  are  quarrelhng  up  there    Just  listen." 

The  loud  noise  of  a  violent  altercation  could  be  heard 
distinctly.  M.  de  Tregars  started  up  stairs,  and  on  the 
second-floor  landing  he  found  Maxence  holding  on  obsti- 
nately to  the  baluster,  whilst  Madame  Zelie  Cadelle, 
redder  than  a  peony,  was  trying  to  force  him  to  let  her 
pass,  treating  him  at  the  same  time  to  some  of  the  choicest 
epithets  of  her  well-stocked  repertory. 

"  Is  it  you,"  she  cried,  catching  sight  of  Marius,  "  who 
gave  orders  to  keep  me  here  against  my  wish  ?  By  what 
right      Am  I  your  prisoner  ?  " 

To  furiher  irritate  her  would  have  been  .imprudent. 
''Why  did  you  wish  to  leave,"  asked  M.  de  Tregars 
gently,  "  at  the  very  moment  when  you  knew  that  I  was 
to  call  for  you  ?  " 

"  Why  don't  you  tell  the  truth  ?  "  she  said  interrupting 
him,  and  shrugging  her  shoulders.  "  Own  that  you  are 
afraid  to  trust  me." 

"Oh!" 


360 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  You  were  wrong  !  What  I  promise  to  do,  I  do.  1 
only  wanted  to  go  home  to  dress.  Can  I  go  out  in  the 
street  in  this  costume  ?  And  she  spread  out  her  wrap- 
per, all  faded  and  stained. 

"  I  have  a  cab  below,"  said  Marius.  "  No  one  will  see 
us.'' 

Doubtless  she  understood  that  it  was  useless  to  hesi- 
tate.   "  As  you  please  then,"  she  said. 

M.  de  Tregars  took  Maxence  aside,  and  in  a  hurried 
whisper,  said ;  You  must  go  at  once  to  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles,  and  in  my  name  request  your  sister  to  accompany 
you.  You  will  take  a  closed  cab  and  go  and  wait  in  the 
Rue  St.  Lazare,  opposite  No.  25.  It  is  possible  that 
Gilberte's  assistance  may  become  indispensable  to  me. 
And  as  Lucienne  must  not  be  left  alone,  you  had  better 
ask  Madame  Fortin  to  go  and  stay  with  her."  And 
without  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  requested  Madame 
Cadelle  to  take  her  seat  in  the  cab. 

They  started  ;  but  the  young  woman  was  far  from  being 
in  her  usual  spirits.  It  was  clear  that  she  bitterly  re- 
gretted having  gone  so  far,  and  not  having  been  able  to 
escape  at  the  last  moment.  As  the  cab  drove  on,  she 
became  very  pale,  and  a  frown  appeared  upon  her  face. 

All  the  same,"  she  began ;  "  it's  a  nasty  thing  I  am 
about  to  do." 

Do  you  repent  then,  assisting  me  to  punish  your  friend's 
would-be  assassins  ?  "  asked  M.  de  Tregars. 

"  I  know  very  well  that  old  Vincent  is  a  scoundrel," 
she  said,  shaking  her  head ;  "  but  he  trusted  me,  and  I  am 
betraying  him." 

You  are  mistaken,  madame.  To  furnish  me  wdth  the 
means  of  speaking  to  M.  Favoral  is  not  to  betray  him ; 
and  I  shall  do  everything  in  my  power  to  enable  him  to 
escape  the  police,  and  make  his  way  abroad." 

"  What  a  joke  !  " 

"  It  is  the  exact  truth  ;  I  give  you  my  word  of  honour." 
She  appeared  reassured  ;  and  as  the  cab  turned  into 
the  Rue  St.  Lazare,  she  said :     Let  us  stop  here." 
"  Why  ?  " 

"  So  that  I  can  buy  old  Vincent's  breakfast.  He  can't 
go  out  to  eat,  of  course :  and  so  I  have  to  take  all  his 
meals  in  to  him." 

Mariivs's  mistrust  was  far  from  being  dissipated ;  and 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


361 


yet  he  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  refuse,  promising, 
however,  not  to  lose  sight  of  Madame  Zelie.  He  followed 
her,  therefore,  to  the  baker's  and  the  pork-butcher's ; 
and  when  she  had  made  her  purchases,  they  entered  the 
house  of  modest  appearance  where  she  had  her  apart- 
ments. 

As  they  were  going  up-stairs,  the  concierge  ran  out  of 
his  lodge.    "  Madame  ! "  he  called,    madame  !  " 
Madame  Cadelle  stopped.      What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

A  letter  for  you.'' 
"  For  me  ?  *' 

"  Here  it  is.  A  lady  brought  it  about  five  minutes 
ago.  Really  she  looked  awfully  annoyed  not  to  find  you 
in.  But  she  is  coming  back.  She  knew  you  were  to  be 
here  this  morning." 

M.  de  Tregars  had  also  stopped.  "  What  was  she  like, 
this  lady  t  "  he  asked. 

"  Dressed  all  in  black,  with  a  thick  veil  over  her  face." 

The  concierge  returned  to  his  lodge.  Madame  Zelie 
broke  the  seal.  The  first  envelope  contained  another, 
upon  which  she  spelt,  for  she  did  not  read  very  fluently  : 
To  be  handed  to  M.  Vincent." 

"  Som.e  one  knows  that  he  is  hiding  here,"  she  said  in  a 
tone  of  utter  surprise.    "  Who  can  it  be  ?  " 

"  Who  ?  "  Why,  the  woman  whose  reputation  M.  Favo- 
ral  was  so  anxious  to  spare  when  he  installed  you  in  the 
house  in  the  Rue  du  Cirque." 

"  You  are  right,"  she  said.  What  a  fool  he  made  of 
me,  the  old  rascal !  But  never  mind.  I  am  going  to 
pay  him  out  for  it  now." 

Nevertheless,  when  she  reached  the  door  of  her  apart- 
ments and  at  the  moment  of  slipping  the  key  into  the 
keyhole,  she  hesitated.  "  If  some  misfortune  should 
happen,"  she  sighed. 

"  What  are  you  afraid  of  ?  " 

"  Old  Vincent  has  got  all  sorts  of  arms  in  there.  He 
swore  to  me  that  the  first  person  who  forced  his  way  into 
his  room  he  would  kill  like  a  dog.  Suppose  he  should 
fire  on  us  "  She  was  afraid,  terribly  afraid ;  she  was 
ghastly  pale,  and  her  teeth  chattered. 

Let  me  enter  first,"  suggested  M.  de  Tregars. 

No.  Only  if  you  were  a  good  fellow,  you  would  do 
what  I  am  going  to  ask  you.    Say,  will  you  ? " 


362 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


"  If  it  can  be  done." 

"  Oh,  certainly  !  This  is  it.  We'll  go  in  together  ;  but 
you  must  not  make  any  noise.  There  is  a  large  closet  with 
glass  doors,  from  which  everything  can  be  heard  and 
seen  that  goes  on  in  the  principal-room.  You'll  get  in 
there.  I'll  go  and  draw  old  Vincent  out  of  his  bedroom, 
and  at  the  right  moment  you  can  appear." 

"  Agreed  !  "  said  Marius. 

'^Then,"  she  said,  "everything  will  go  on  all  right 
The  entrance  of  the  closet  with  the  glass  doors  is  on  the 
right  as  you  go  in.  Come  along  now,  and  walk  softly." 
And  she  opened  the  door. 

In  the  dark  and  narrow  ante-chamber,  were  three  doors, 
that  of  the  dining-room  on  the  left ;  that  of  the  drawing- 
room  in  the  centre  ;  and  on  the  right,  that  of  the  closet.  M. 
de  Tregars  entered  noiselessly  the  latter,  and  at  once  recog- 
nized that  Madame  Zelie  had  not  deceived  him,  and  that 
he  would  be  able  to  see  and  hear  everything  that  went  on 
in  the  drawing-room.  He  saw  the  young  woman  lay  her 
provisions  down  upon  the  table,  and  then  heard  her  call : 
"  Vincent !  " 

The  former  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  appeared 
at  once,  coming  out  of  the  bedroom.  He  was  so  changed 
that  his  wife  and  children  would  have  hesitated  in  recog- 
nizing him.  He  had  cut  off  his  beard,  pulled  out  almost 
the  whole  of  his  thick  eyebrows,  and  hidden  his  coarse 
straight  hair  under  a  brown  wig.  He  wore  patent-leather 
boots,  baggy  trousers,  and  one  of  those  short  jackets  of 
rough  material,  and  with  broad  sleeves,  which  French 
elegance  has  borrowed  from  English  stable-boys.  He 
tried  to  appear  calm,  careless,  and  playful ;  but  the  con- 
traction of  his  lips  betrayed  a  horrible  anguish,  and  his 
eyes  had  the  strange  mobility  of  a  wild  beast.  "  I  was 
beginning  to  fear  that  you  would  disappoint  me,"  he  said 
to  Madame  Zelie. 

"  It  took  me  some  time  to  buy  your  breakfast." 

"  And  is  that  all  that  kept  you  ?  " 

"  The  concierge  detained  me  too,  to  hand  me  a  letter, 
in  which  I  found  one  for  you.    Here  it  is." 

"  A  letter  !  "  exclaimed  Vincent  Favoral.  And  snatch- 
ing it  from  her  he  tore  off  the  envelope.  But  he  had 
scarcely  looked  over  it,  when  he  crushed  it  in  his  hand, 


C  ^HER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


363 


exclaiming :  It  is  monstrous !  It  is  a  mean,  infamous 
treason  ! " 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  violent  ringing  of  the  door-bell. 
"  Who  can  it  be  ?  "  stammered  Madame  Cadelle. 

"  I  know  who  it  is,"  replied  the  former  cashier.  *^  Open, 
open  quick." 

She  obeyed  ;  and  almost  immediately  there  entered  the 
drawing-room  a  woman  wearing  a  cheap  black  woollen 
dress.  With  a  sudden  gesture  she  threw  off  her  veil,  and 
M.  de  Tregars  recognized  the  Baroness  de  Thaller. 
"  Leave  us  !  "  she  said  to  Madame  Zelie,  in  a  tone  which 
one  would  hardly  dare  to  assume  towards  a  servant. 

"  What,  what !  "  said  the  other  highly  indignant,  "  I  am 
at  home  here." 

Leave  us  !  "  repeated  M.  Favoral  threateningly.  "  Go, 
go ! " 

She  went  out,  but  only  to  take  refuge  by  the  side  of  M. 
de  Tregars.  "  You  hear  how  they  treat  me  !  "  she  said  in 
a  hoarse  voice. 

He  made  no  answer.  All  his  attention  was  centred 
upon  the  occupants  of  the  drawing-room.  The  Baroness 
de  Thaller  and  the  former  cashier  were  standing  opposite 
each  other  like  two  adversaries  about  to  fight  a  duel.  "  I 
have  just  read  your  letter,"  at  length  began  Vincent 
Favoral. 

Ah  !  "  said  the  baroness  coldly. 

"  It  is  a  joke,  I  suppose." 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  You  refuse  to  go  with  me  ?  " 
"  Positively." 

"  And  yet  it  was  all  agreed  upon.  I  have  acted  wholly 
under  your  urgent,  pressing  advice.  How  many  times 
have  you  told  me  that  to  live  with  your  husband  had  be- 
come an  intolerable  torment  to  you  !  How  many  times 
have  you  sworn  to  me  that  you  wished  to  be  mine  alone, 
begging  me  to  procure  a  large  sum  of  money,  and  to  fly 
with  you  ! " 

"  I  was  in  earnest  at  the  time.  I  have  discovered,  at  the 
last  moment,  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  thus  to 
abandon  my  country,  my  daughter,  my  friends." 

"  We  can  take  Cesarine  with  us." 

"  Do  not  insist." 

He  was  looking  at  her  with  a  stupid,  gloomy  gaze. 


3^4 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


Then/'  he  stammered,  "  those  tears,  those  prayers,  those 
oaths,  meant  nothing  !  " 
I  have  reflected.'' 
"  It  is  not  possible  !    If  you  spoke  the  truth,  you  would 
not  be  here." 

"  I  am  here  to  make  you  understand  that  we  must  give  up 
projects  which  cannot  be  realized.  There  are  certain 
social  conventionalities  which  cannot  be  ignored." 

As  if  he  scarcely  understood  what  she  said,  he  repeated  : 

Social  conventionalities  !  "  And  then,  suddenly  falling  at 
Madame  de  Thaller's  feet,  with  his  head  thrown  back,  and 
his  hands  clasped  together,  he  exclaimed  :  "  It  is  not  true. 
Confess  that  you  lie,  and  that  it  is  a  final  trial  which  you 
are  imposing  upon  me.  Or  else  have  you,  then,  never 
loved  me  ?  It  is  impossible  !  I  would  not  believe  you,  if 
you  were  to  say  so.  A  woman  who  does  not  love  a  man 
cannot  be  to  him  what  you  have  been  to  me ;  she  does  not 
give  herself  up  thus  so  joyously  and  so  completely.  Have 
you,  then,  forgotten  everything  ?  Is  it  possible  that  you 
no  longer  remember  those  divine  evenings  passed  in  the 
Rue  du  Cirque — those  nights,  the  mere  thought  of  which 
fires  my  brain,  and  consumes  my  blood  ?  "  He  was  hor- 
rible to  look  at,  horrible  and  ridiculous  at  the  same  time. 
As  he  wished  to  take  hold  of  Madame  de  Thaller's  hands, 
she  stepped  back,  and  he  followed  her,  dragging  himself 
on  his  knees.  "  Where  could  you  find,"  he  continued,  "  a 
man  who  worships  you  like  I  do,  with  an  ardent,  absolute, 
blind,  mad  passion  With  what  can  you  reproach  me  ? 
Have  I  not  sacrified  to  you,  without  a  murmur,  everything 
that  a  man  can  sacrifice  here  below,  fortune,  family,  honour. 
To  supply  your  extravagance,  to  anticipate  your  slightest 
fancies,  to  give  you  gold  to  scatter  by  the  handful,  have  I 
not  kept  my  wife  and  children  in  poverty  ?  I  would  have 
snatched  the  bread  from  their  mouths  in  order  to  purchase 
roses  to  scatter  under  your  feet.  And  for  years  did  ever 
a  word  from  me  betray  the  secret  of  our  love  ?  What 
have  I  not  endured  ?  You  deceived  me,  I  knew  it,  and  I 
said  nothing.  Upon  a  word  from  you  I  stepped  aside  be- 
fore him  whom  your  caprice  made  happy  for  a  day.  You 
said  to  me,  *  Steal  !  '  and  I  stole.  You  said  to  me,  *  Kill  ! ' 
and  I  tried  to  kill." 

He  seized  hold  of  one  of  her  hands,  but  she  quickly 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


365 


withdrew  it  from  his  grasp,  and  in  a  tone  of  insurmounta- 
ble disgust  she  exclaimed,  "  Oh  !  enough  ! 

Behind  the  glass  door  of  the  closet  Marius  felt  Madame 
Zelie  Cadelle  shudder  beside  him.  What  a  wretch  that 
woman  is,"  she  murmured,    and  he,  what  a  coward  !  " 

The  wretched  man  remained  grovelling  on  the  floor. 
"  And  you  wish  to  abandon  me,"  he  groaned,  "  when  we 
are  united  by  a  past  such  as  ours  !  How  can  you  replace 
me  ?  Where  will  you  find  a  slave  more  devoted  to  your  will 
than  I. ^" 

"  Cease,"  interrupted  the  baroness,  overcome  with  im- 
patience, "cease  these  ridiculous  and  useless  pleadings." 

At  these  words  he  rose  to  his  feet  as  though  he  had  re- 
ceived a  stroke  from  a  whip.  "  What  is  to  become  of  me, 
then  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Fly.  A  man  who  has  twelve  hundred  thousand  francs 
in  gold,  bank-notes,  and  good  securities,  can  always  get 
along." 

"  And  my  wife  and  children  ?  " 

"  Maxence  is  old  enough  to  help  his  mother.  Gilberte 
will  find  a  husband,  you  may  be  sure.  Besides,  what's  to 
prevent  you  from  sending  them  money?  " 

*^  They  would  refuse  it." 
You  will  always  be  a  fool,  my  dear !  " 

To  Vincent  FavoraPs  first  stupor  and  miserable  weak- 
ness now  succeeded  a  terrible  rage.  All  the  blood  had 
left  his  face  ;  his  eyes  w^ere  flashing.  "  Then,"  he  resum- 
ed,   all  is  really  over  1 " 

"  Of  course." 

"  Then  I  have  been  duped  like  the  rest,  like  that  poor 
Marquis  de  Tregars,  whom  you  made  mad  also.  But  he, 
at  least,  saved  his  honour ;  whereas  I — And  I  have  no  ex- 
cuse ;  for  I  should  have  known  better.  I  knew  that  you 
were  but  the  bait  the  Baron  de  Thaller  held  out  to  his  vic- 
tims." 

He  waited  for  an  answer;  but  she  maintained  a  con- 
-  temptuous  silence. 

"  Then  you  think,"  he  said  with  a  threatening  laugh, 
"  that  it  will  all  end  like  this  ? " 
What  can  you  do  ?  " 
"There  is  such  a  thing  as  justice,  I  imagine,  and  judges 
too.    I  can  give  myself  up,  and  reveal  everything." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders.    "  That  would  be  throwing 


366 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


yourself  into  the  wolfs  mouth  for  nothing,"  she  said. 

You  know  better  than  any  one  else  that  our  precautions 
are  well  enough  taken  to  defy  anything  you  can  do  or  say. 
I  have  nothing  to  fear." 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  of  that  ?  " 

"  Trust  to  me,"  she  said  with  a  smile  of  perfect  security. 

"  Well,  we  will  see,"  said  the  former  cashier  of  the 
Mutual  Credit  Bank,  with  a  terrible  gesture.  And  double 
locking  the  door  which  communicated  with  the  ante-cham- 
ber, he  put  the  key  in  his  pocket  ;v  and,  with  a  step  as  stiff 
and  mechanical  as  that  of  an  automaton,  he  disappeared 
into  the  bedroom. 

"  He  is  gone  for  a  weapon,"  whispered  Madam  Cadelle. 

It  was  also  what  Marius  thought.  "  Run  down-stairs 
quick,"  he  said  to  her.  In  a  cab  standing  opposite  No. 
25,  you  will  find  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  Favoral  waiting. 
Tell  her  to  come  at  once."  And  rushing  into  the  drawing- 
room,  "  Fly !  "  he  said  to  Madame  de  Thaller.  But  she 
remained  as  though  petrified  by  this  apparition.  M.  de 
Tregars !  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  me.  But  make  haste  and  go  i  "  And  he 
pushed  her  into  the  closet. 

It  was  but  time.  Vincent  Favoral  reappeared  upon  the 
threshold  of  the  bedroom.  But,  if  it  was  a  weapon  he  had 
gone  for,  it  was  not  of  the  sort  which  Marius  and  Madame 
Cadelle  supposed.  It  was  a  bundle  of  documents  which 
he  held  in  his  hand.  Seeing  M.  de  Tregars  instead  of 
Madame  de  Thaller,  an  exclamation  of  terror  and  surprise 
rose  to  his  lips.  "  Ah,  the  miserable  wretch  !  "  he  stam- 
mered with  a  tongue  made  thick  by  passion,  ^'  the  infamous 
wretch  !    She  has  betrayed  me  ;  I  am  lost  1  " 

"  No,  no !  you  are  not  lost,"  said  M.  de  Tregars,  mas- 
tering the  most  terrible  emotion  he  had  ever  felt. 

Collecting  all  the  energy  that  the  devouring  passion 
which  had  wasted  his  existence  had  left  him,  the  former 
cashier  took  a  step  or  two  forward.  "  Who  are  you,  then  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Do  you  not  know  me  ?  I  am  the  son  of  that  unfortu- 
nate Marquis  de  Tregars  of  whom  you  were  speaking  a 
moment  since.    I  am  Lucienne's  brother." 

Like  a  man  who  had  received  a  heavy  blow,  Vincent 
Favoral  sank  upon  a  chair.  "  He  knows  all,"  he  groaned 
Yes,  all  !  " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


367 


"  You  must  hate  me  mortally.'' 
"  I  pity  you." 

The  old  cashier  had  reached  that  point  when  all  the 
faculties,  after  being  strained  to  their  utmost  limits,  sud- 
denly break  down,  when  the  strongest  man  gives  up,  and 
weeps  like  a  child.  Ah,  I  am  the  greatest  of  villains !  " 
exclaimed  he.  He  hid  his  face  in  his  hands  ;  and  in  one 
second, — as  it  happens,  so  'tis  said,  to  the  dying  on  the 
threshold  of  eternity, — he  reviewed  all  his  past  existence. 
"  And  yet,"  he  resumed,  I  had  not  the  soul  of  a  villain. 
I  wanted  to  get  rich,  but  honestly,  by  labour,  and  by  rigid 
economy.  And  I  should  have  succeeded.  I  had  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  francs  of  my  own  when  I  met  the 
Baron  de  Thaller.  Alas  !  why  did  I  meet  him  !  It  was 
he  who  first  gave  me  to  understand  that  it  was  stupid  to 
work  and  to  save,  when,  at  the  Bourse,  with  moderate 
luck,  one  might  become  a  millionnaire  in  six  months."  He 
stopped,  shook  his  head,  and  suddenly  asked  :  Do  you 
know  the  Baron  de  Thaller?  "  But  without  giving  Marius 
time  to  answer,  he  continued  :  "  He  is  a  German,  a  Prus- 
sian. His  father  was  a  cab-driver  in  Berlin,  and  his  mother 
waiting-maid  in  a  brewery.  At  the  age  of  eighteen  he  was 
compelled  to  leave  his  country,  owing  to  some  petty  swin- 
dle, and  came  to  take  up  his  res'dence  in  Paris.  He 
found  employment  in  the  office  of  a  stock-broker,  and  was 
living  very  poorly,  when  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  a 
young  laundress  named  Euphrasie,  who  had  for  a  lover  a  very 
wealthy  nobleman,  the  Marquis  de  Tregars,  whose  weak- 
ness was  to  pass  himself  off  for  a  poor  clerk.  Euphrasie 
and  De  Thaller  were  born  to  agree.  They  did  agree,  and 
formed  an  association,  she  contributing  her  beauty,  he  his 
genius  for  intrigue,  both  their  corruption  and  their  vices. 
Soon  after  they  met,  she  gave  birth  to  a  child,  a  daughter, 
w^hom  she  entrusted  to  some  poor  gardeners  at  Louveciennes, 
with  the  firm  and  settled  intention  of  leaving  her  there  for- 
ever. And  yet  it  was  upon  this  daughter,  whom  they  firmly 
hoped  never  to  see  again,  that  the  two  accomplices  were 
building  their  fortune.  It  was  in  the  name  of  this  daughter 
that  Euphrasie  extorted  considerable  sums  from  the  Mar- 
quis de  Tregars.  As  soon  as  De  Thaller  and  she  found 
themselves  in  possession  of  six  hundred  thousand  francs, 
they  dismissed  the  marquis,  and  got  married.  Already, 
at  that  time,  De  Thaller  had  taken  die  title  of  baron,  and 


368 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


lived  in  some  style.  But  his  first  speculations  were  not 
successful.  The  revolution  of  1848  finished  his  ruin,  and 
he  was  on  the  point  of  being  posted  up  at  the  Bourse, 
when  I  crossed  his  path,  I,  poor  fool,  who  was  going  about 
everywhere,  inquiring  how  I  could  advantageously  invest 
my  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs/'  He  spoke  in  a 
hoarse  voice,  and  shook  his  clenched  fist  in  the  air,  doubt 
less  at  the  Baron  de  Thaller.  "  Unfortunately,''  he  re 
sumed,  "  it  was  only  much  later  that  I  discovered  all  this. 
At  the  time  M.  de  Thaller  dazzled  me.  His  friends,  Saint- 
Pavin  and  the  bankers  Jottras,  proclaimed  him  the  smart- 
est and  the  most  honest  man  in  France.  Still,  I  would 
not  have  entrusted  my  money  to  him,  if  it  had  not  been 
for  the  baroness.  The  first  lime  that  I  was  introduced  to 
her,  and  that  she  fixed  upon  me  her  great  black  eyes,  I 
felt  myself  moved  to  the  inmost  recesses  of  my  soul.  In 
order  to  see  her  again,  I  invited  her,  together  with  her 
husband  and  her  husband's  friends,  to  dine  with  me,  by 
the  side  of  my  wife  and  children.  She  came.  Her  hus- 
band got  me  to  sign  everything  he  pleased ;  but,  as  she 
went  off,  she  squeezed  my  hand."  The  wretched  man 
shuddered  at  the  recollection  of  it.  "  The  next  day,"  he 
continued,  "  1  handed  to  De  Thaller  all  that  I  had  in  the 
world ;  and,  in  exchange,  he  gave  me  the  position  of  chief 
cashier  in  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank,  which  he  had  just  es- 
tablished. He  treated  me  like  an  inferior,  and  did  not 
admit  me  to  visit  his  family.  But  I  didn't  care,  the  baron- 
ess had  permitted  me  to  see  her  again,  and  almost  every 
afternoon  I  met  her  in  the  Tuileries  Gardens ;  and  I  had 
even  told  her  that  I  loved  her  desperately.  At  last,  one 
afternoon,  she  consented  to  pass  an  evening  with  me,  in 
an  apartment  which  I  had  rented.  The  day  before  I  was 
to  meet  her,  and  whilst  I  was  beside  myself  Avith  joy,  the 
Baron  de  Thaller  asked  me  to  assist  him,  by  means  of 
certain  irregular  entries,  to  conceal  a  deficit  arising  from 
unsuccessful  speculations.  How  could  I  refuse  to  help  a 
man  whom,  as  I  thought,  I  was  about  to  deceive  basely  ! 
I  did  as  he  wished.  The  next  day  Madame  de  Thaller 
became  my  mistress,  and  I  was  a  lost  man." 

Was  he  trying  to  exculpate  himself?  Was  he  merely 
yielding  to  that  imperious  instigation  more  powerful  than 
the  will  or  reason,  which  incites  the  criminal  to  reveal  the 
secret  which  oppresses  him  ? 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


369 


"  From  that  day,"  he  resumed,  began  for  me  the 
torment  of  that  double  existence  which  1  underwent  for 
years.  I  gave  to  my  mistress  all  I  had  in  the  world  ;  and 
she  was  insatiable.  She  wanted  money  always,  any  way, 
and  in  heaps.  She  made  me  buy  the  house  in  the  Rue  du 
Cirque  for  our  meetings ;  and,  between  the  demands  of 
the  husband  and  those  of  the  wife,  I  almost  went  mad. 
I  drew  from  the  funds  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  as  from 
an  inexhaustible  mine  ;  and,  as  I  foresaw  that  a  day  must 
come  when  all  would  be  discovered  I  always  carried 
about  me  a  loaded  revolver,  with  which  to  blow  out  my 
brains  whenever  the  police  came  to  arrest  me."  And  he 
showed  Marius  the  handle  of  a  revolver  protruding  from 
his  pocket.  "  If  only  she  had  been  faithful  to  me  ! he 
continued,  becoming  more  and  more  animated.  "  But 
what  have  I  not  endured !  When  the  Marquis  de  Tregars 
returned  to  Paris,  and  they  set  about  defrauding  him  of 
his  fortune,  she  did  not  hesitate  a  moment  to  become  his 
mistress  again.  She  would  say  to  me,  *What  a  fool  3^ou 
are !  all  I  want  is  his  money.  I  love  no  one  but  you.' 
But  after  his  death  she  took  others.  Our  house  in  the 
Rue  du  Cirque  became  a  place  of  debauchery  for  herself 
and  her  daughter  Cesarine.  And  I,  miserable  coward  that 
I  was  !  I  submitted  to  it  all,  so  much  did  I  tremble  to  lose 
her,  so  much  did  I  fear  to  be  denied  even  the  semblance 
of  love  with  which  she  repaid  my  fearful  sacrifices.  And 
to-day  she  would  betray  me,  forsake  me  !  For  everything 
that  has  taken  place  was  suggested  by  her  in  order  to  pro- 
cure a  sum  wherewith  to  fly  to  America.  It  was  she  who 
imagined  the  vile  comedy  which  I  played,  so  as  to  throw 
upon  myself  the  whole  responsibility.  M.  de  Thaller  has 
had  millions  for  his  share  ;  I  have  only  had  twelve  hundred 
thousand  francs."  Violent  nervous  shudders  shook  his 
frame  ;  his  face  became  almost  purple.  He  drew  himself 
up,  and,  brandishing  the  letters  which  he  held  in  his  hand, 
he  exclaimed  :  "  But  all  is  not  over  !  There  are  proofs 
which  neither  the  baron  nor  his  wife  know  that  I  have ! 
I  have  the  proof  of  the  infamous  swindle  of  which  the 
Marquis  de  Tregars  was  the  victim.  I  have  the  proof  of 
the  farce  played  by  M.  de  Thaller  and  myself  to  defraud 
the  shareholders  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank ! " 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  do  ?  "  asked  Marius. 

He  laughed  stupidly.  "  I  ?  I  shall  go  and  hide  myself 
24 


370 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


in  some  suburb  of  Paris,  and  write  to  Euphrasie  to  join 
me.  She  knows  that  I  have  twelve  hundred  thousand 
francs,  and  she  will  come.  She  will  keep  coming  as  long 
as  I  have  any  money,  and  when  I  have  no  more — But 
he  suddenly  stopped,  and  started  back,  outstretching  his 
arms  as  if  to  repel  a  terrifying  apparition.  Mademoiselk. 
Gilberte  had  just  entered  the  room.  My  daughter  ! 
stammered,  ^'  Gilberte  !  '* 

Soon  to  be  the  Marchioness  de  Tregars,"  said  Marius. 

An  inexpressible  look  of  terror  and  anguish  convulsed 
Vincent  FavoraFs  features ;  he  guessed  that  it  was  the 
end.    ^'What  do  you  want  with  me  t "  he  asked. 

"  The  money  that  you  have  stolen,  father,"  replied  the 
young  girl  in  an  inexorable  tone  of  voice,  "  the  twelve 
hundred  thousand  francs  which  you  have  here,  then  the 
proofs  which  are  in  your  hands,  and,  finally,  your  weapons." 

"  Take  away  my  money  !  "  he  said,  trembling  from  head 
to  foot.  "  Why,  that  would  be  compelling  me  to  give  my- 
self up  !    Do  you  wish  to  see  me  a  convict  t  " 

"  The  disgrace  would  also  fall  upon  your  children,  sir," 
said  M.  de  Tregars.  ^^We  shall,  on  the  contrary,  do 
everything  possible  to  enable  you  to  evade  the  pursuit  of 
the  police." 

"  Well,  yes,  then !  But  to-morrow  I  must  write  to 
Euplirasie,  I  must  see  her  !  " 

You  do  not  know  what  you  say,  father,"  said  Mademoi- 
selle Gilberte.      Come,  do  as  I  ask  you." 

He  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height.  "  And  suppose 
I  refuse  ?  " 

But  it  was  the  last  effort  of  his  will.  He  yielded, 
though  not  without  an  agonizing  struggle,  and  gave  up  to 
his  daughter  the  money,  the  proofs,  and  the  arms.  And 
as  she  was  about  to  leave,  leaning  on  M.  de  Tregars's 
arm,  he  murmured  imploringly  :  Send  me  your  mother. 
She  will  understand  me,  she  will  not  be  without  pity.  She 
is  my  wife ;  let  her  come  quick.  I  will  not,  I  cannot 
remain  alone." 

X. 

It  was  with  convulsive  haste  that  the  Baroness  de  Thal- 
ler traversed  the  distance  that  separated  the  Rue  St. 
Lazare  from  the  Rue  de  la  Pepiniere.    M.  de  Tregars^s 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


371 


sudden  intervention  had  upset  all  her  ideas.  The  most 
sinister  presentiments  agitated  her  mind.  In  the  court- 
yard of  her  residence,  all  the  servants,  gathered  in  a 
group,  were  talking.  They  did  not  take  the  trouble  to 
stand  aside  to  let  her  pass  ;  and"  she  even  noticed  some 
smiles  and  ironical  gigglings.  This  was  a  terrible  blow  to 
her.  What  was  happening  t  What  had  they  heard  ?  A 
man  was  sitting  in  the  magnificent  vestibule  as  she 
entered.  It  was  the  same  suspicious  character  that 
Marius  de  Tregars  had  seen  in  the  principal  drawing- 
ropm,  in  mysterious  conference  with  the  baroness. 

"  Bad  news,''  he  said  with  a  pitiful  look. 

"  What  ? " 

"  That  minx,  Lucienne,  must  have  her  soul  riveted  to 
her  body.    She  is  only  wounded  ;  and  she'll  get  over  it." 

"  Never  mind  Lucienne.    What  about  M,  de  Tregars  ?  " 

"Oh!  he's  a  sharp  one.  Instead  of  taking  up  our 
man's  provocation,  he  collared  him,  and  found  in  his 
pocket  the  note  I  had  sent  him." 

Madame  de  Thaller  started  violently.  "  What  is  the 
meaning,  then,"  she  asked,  *'of  your  letter  last  night,  in 
which  you  requested  me  to  hand  two  thousand  francs  to 
the  bearer  1  " 

The  man  became  ghastly  pale.  You  received  a  lettei 
from  me,"  he  stammered,    last  night  ?  " 

"  Yes,  from  you  ;  and  I  gave  the  money." 

The  man  struck  his  forehead.  "  I  understand  it  all !  " 
he  exclaimed. 

"  What  ?  " 

"  They  wanted  proofs.  They  imitated  my  handwriting, 
and  you  swallowed  the  bait.  That's  why  I  Avas  locked  up 
in  the  station-house  all"  night ;  and,  if  they  released  me 
this  morning,  it  was  to  find  out  where  I'd  go.  I  have  been 
followed.  The  game  is  up,  baroness.  Every  one  for  him- 
self now  !  "    And  he  ran  out. 

More  agitated  than  ever,  Madame  de  Thaller  went  up- 
stairs. In  the  little  drawing-room,  she  found  the  Baron  de 
Thaller  and  Mademoiselle  Cesarine  waiting  for  her. 
Stretched  upon  an  arm-chair,  her  legs  crossed,  and  the  tip 
of  her  boot  on  a  level  with  her  eye.  Mademoiselle  Cesarine, 
with  a  look  of  ironical  curiosity,  was  watching  her  father, 
who,  livid  and  trembling  with  nervous  excitement,  was 
walking  up  and  down,  like  a  wild  beast  in  its  cage. 


372 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


"  Things  are  going  badly/'  said  he,  as  soon  as  the  bar^ 
oness  appeared,  "  very  badly.  Our  game  is  devilishly 
compromised." 

"  You  think  so  ?  " 

"  I  am  but  too  sure  of  it.  Such  a  well-combined  stroke 
too  !  But  everything  is  against  us.  In  presence  of  the 
investigating  magistrate,  Jottras  held  out  well ;  but  Saint- 
Pavin  spoke.  The  dirty  rascal  was  not  satisfied  with  the 
share  allotted  to  him.  On  the  information  furnished  by 
him,  Costeclar  was  arrested  this  morning.  And  Costeclai 
knows  all,  since  he  has  been  your  confidant,  Vincent  Fa- 
voral's,  and  my  own.  When  a  man  has,  like  him,  two  or 
three  forgeries  in  his  record,  he  is  sure  to  speak.  Perhaps 
he  has  already  done  so,  since  the  police  have  called  on 
Lattermann,  with  whom  I  had  organized  the  panic  and 
the  fall  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Bank  stock.  What  can  we 
do  to  ward  off  the  blow  ? 

With  a  surer  glance  than  her  husband,  Madame  de 
Thaller  had  measured  the  situation^  Do  not  try  to  ward 
it  off,"  she  replied,  "  it  would  be  useless." 

"  Because  ?  " 

"  Because  M.  de  Tregars  has  found  Vincent  Favoral ; 
because,  at  this  very  moment,  they  are  together,  arranging 
their  plans." 

The  baron  made  a  terrible  gesture.  "Ah,  thunder  and 
lightning  !  "  he  exclaimed.  I  always  told  you  that  that 
stupid  fool,  Favoral,  would  cause  our  ruin.  It  was  so  easy 
for  you  to  find  an  opportunity  for  him  to  blow  his  brains 
out." 

"  Was  it  so  difficult  for  you  to  accept  M.  de  Tregars's 
offers  ? " 

"  It  was  you  who  made  me  refuse," 
"  Was  it  me,  too,  who  was  so  anxious  to  get  rid  of 
Lucienne  ? " 

For  years.  Mademoiselle  Cesarine  had  not  felt  so 
amused  ;  and,  in  a  half  whisper,  she  hummed  to  herself 
one  of  her  favourite  tunes.  At  this  moment  there  was  a 
violent  knocking  at  the  door. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  law  !  " 

It  was  the  commissary  of  police,  wdth  warrants  to  arrest 
the  Baron  and  Baroness  de  Thaller.  And,  whilst  sur- 
rounded by  agents,  they  were  taken  to  a  cab,  Mademoi- 


.,4 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY, 


373 


selle  Cesarine  exclaimed  :  "  Orphan  on  both  sides  !  Now 
I  am  free  and  we'll  have  some  fun  1 " 

At  that  very  moment,  M.  de  Tregars  and  Mademoiselle 
Gilberte  reached  the  Rue  St.  Gilles.  Hearing  that  her 
husband  had  been  found,  Madame  Favoral  insisted  upon 
seeing  him  at  once.  And,  in  spite  of  anything  they  could 
tell  her,  she  threw  a  shawl  over  her  shoulders,  and  started 
with  Mademoiselle  Gilberte.  When  they  entered  Madame 
Zelie's  drawing-room,  they  saw  Vincent  Favoral  sitting  at 
a  table  with  his  back  towards  them,  and  apparently  writ- 
ing. Madame  Favoral  approached  on  tiptoe,  and  read 
over  her  husband's  shoulder  what  he  had  just  written  ; 
"  Euphrasie,  my  beloved,  my  eternally  adored  mistress, 
will  you  forgive  me  ?  The  money  that  I  was  keeping  for 
you,  my  darling,  the  proofs  which  will  crush  your  husband 
— they  have  taken  everything  from  me,  basely,  by  force. 
And  it  is  my  daughter — "    He  had  stopped  there. 

"  Vincent !  "  called  Madame  Favoral,  surprised  at  his 
immobility. 

He  made  no  answer.  She  touched  him  with  her  finger. 
He  rolled  to  the  ground.    He  was  dead  1 

Three  months  later  the  great  Mutual  Credit  Bank  suit 
was  tried  before  the  sixth  Court.  The  scandal  was  great ; 
but  public  curiosity  was  strangely  disappointed.  As  in 
most  of  these  financial  affairs,  justice,  whilst  exposing  the 
most  audacious  frauds,  was  not  able  to  unravel  the  true 
secret.  The  money,  however,  that  the  Baron  de  Thaller 
had  hoped  to  save  was  all  recovered.  That  worthy  was 
condemned  to  five  years'  imprisonment ;  M.  Costeclar  got 
off  with  three  years  ;  and  M.  Jottras  with  two.  M.  Saint- 
Pavin  was  acquitted.  Arrested  for  subornation  of  murder, 
the  former  Marchioness  de  Javelle,  the  Baroness  de  Thal« 
ler,  was  released  for  want  of  sufficient  proof.  But,  implica- 
ted m  the  suit  against  her  husband,  she  lost  three-fourths 
of  her  personal  fortune,  and  is  now  living  with  her 
daughter,  whose  first  appearance  is  announced  to  take 
place  shortly  at  a  well-known  theatre. 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne,  completely  restored,  married 
Maxence  Favoral.  Of  the  five  hundred  thousand  francs 
which  were  returned  to  her,  she  applied  three  hundred 


374 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY. 


thousand  towards  discharging  part  of  her  father-in-law's 
debts,  and  with  the  rest  she  induced  her  husband  to  emi- 
grate.   Paris  had  become  odious  to  them  both. 

Marius  and  Mademoiselle  Gilberte.  who  is  now  the 
Marchioness  de  Tregars,  have  taken  up  their  residence  at 
the  chateau  de  Tregars,  three  leagues  from  Quimper. 
They  have  been  followed  in  their  retreat  by  Madame  Fa- 
voral  and  the  Count  de  Villegre.  The  greater  portion  of 
his  father's  fortune,  Marius  has  applied  to  pay  off  all  the 
personal  creditors  of  the  former  cashier  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  Bank,  all  the  trades-people,  and  also  IVl.  Chapelain, 
M.  Desormeaux,  and  M.  and  Madame  Desclavettes.  All 
that  is  left  to  the  Marquis  and  Marchioness  de  Tregars  is 
some  twenty  thousand  francs  a  year,  and  if  they  ever  lose 
them,  it  will  not  be  at  the  Bourse. 


THE  ENDo 


